


Chase

by dante0220



Series: Divides Crossed [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Duty, F/M, Gen, Pursuit, Romantic Tension, Torture, Usurpation, pranks in the name of Duty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-01-08 14:52:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 19,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12256575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dante0220/pseuds/dante0220
Summary: As Morgana consolidates her hold on Camelot, she pursues Arthur on the one hand and seeks Mithian on the other.  Meantime Merlin and Mithian each take fate into their own hands.





	1. Exacting A Point

**Author's Note:**

> This version of Merlin belongs to the BBC. Britomart is from The Faerie Queene by Edmund Spenser. Yvain, Malodius and Blancheflor are from the Arthurian tales created by Chretien de Troyes.

[Camelot—A Few Hours Following the Events in “Mutual Understandings”]

The sun pushed valiantly at the dark overcast. Summer struggled against unseasonably icy gusts. Rain drizzled over the thatched rooftops. Ravens cawed their gloating overhead. Activity seemed constrained by the Southrons’ occupation.

That and the usurping presence on the throne…..

 

****

 

[Royal Council Chamber]

Morgana brooded in the Seat of State. Much as during her last tenure in this position, Opposition dampened her aspirations. She couldn’t comprehend the subjects’ resistance to her goals. After all, she only wanted to restore the Old Religion. She wanted things to proceed as they had before Uther’s bastard rule. She desired a natural flow to things.

Was it her fault that like children, the ingrates had become self-entitled and lazy for Progress’ sake? Should she be blamed for their straying from Faith’s path?

More aptly, if one wanted an omelet, certain prized eggs needed to be broken after all…..

She pursed her lips and tapped on the throne’s arm rest. Her eyes blazed at the councilors sitting anxiously around the rectangular table brought upstairs from the cellars below. If for nothing else, she’d not tolerate her stepbrother’s circular abomination. She quickly dispensed with Arthur’s anarchy and put the underlings back in their place. 

An elderly slender man cleared his throat. “The wall repairs have dragged down our finances, Milady. We will have to find additional resources.”

She chuckled. Her spell used to tap the walls’ weakness had revealed Nemeth’s involvement in the breach. Ironically Mithian had granted her a key to unlock Opportunity’s vault. The action, while intended to free Merlin and set things right, had led to so much more. “Yes we will, Lord Cuthbert. And I believe we can do so without setting further burdens on our subjects.”

Cuthbert glanced at the other advisors not getting her gist.

“I’m sitting here. Look at me not them.” Storm flared in her eyes beating down quickly on Cuthbert’s sensibilities. “Yes. I do have an idea.” She turned to the Southron soldier standing just to her left. “Bring Sir Leon, will you? I have need for him.”

The crimson cowled man bowed to her. Then he hustled from the area.

“There now. You see? Someone who actually understands his place! You all might learn from his example.” She took a draught from her goblet. “I will hand it to you all. You’ve made progress with taxation over the past few years.”

“The people love Arthur, Queen Morgana,” a heavy set brown haired man pointed out. The words stumbled across his tongue and from his mouth. He almost pursed his lips as if he’d sucked on a sour apple.

“And they will learn to love me as they should.” She shrugged. “They will love me or be swept aside. And trust me, if they force me to do so, I will shove them aside.”

“With due respect, might I make a suggestion?” Cuthbert asked. Fear and Intimidation paled his features. 

“You can. I’ll decide if it has merit or not.” She cleared her throat. “Go on. Regale me with your insight, Lord Cuthbert.”

Cuthbert stiffened. He restrained Indignation’s reaction to her bile. “Yes…well…perhaps you might consider their needs? We’ve all…well…progressed…in our views. Perhaps compromise might grant you some good will? Perhaps we can all adjust to each other?”

She sniffed at his proposal. “Adjust to each other?” She coughed. “And what about magic users? What about the Old Religion, Sir Cuthbert? How much have we suffered?” She brought her hands down firmly onto the table spilling goblets and jarring others’ sensibilities. “WHAT ABOUT THEM??”

The outburst drained the blood from the counselors’ faces. Uncertainty shook them. They averted their eyes. Silence muffled any potential responses. 

She shook her head. Satisfaction savored their reactions. “No responses? Really? You all seemed so sure during the Purge. You all supported Arthur’s assault on the old order. Now you know how we feel!”

At that moment, the Southron soldier cleared his throat. “Queen Morgana?”

She saw the underling dragging a manacled Leon into the chamber. She nodded. “I would hope for more gratitude, Sir Leon.”

Leon summoned up his resolve. He frowned. “Your care leaves little to be desired, Morgana.” He dropped his shoulder and knocked the Southron back. “We will never serve you willingly!”

She frowned. “Unwilling or no, I am sure I will find a way. To think that I had help in breaching the wall. The Nemethians were so eager to stop Agravaine. They helped you to save Merlin from the hangman’s noose. Pity. I would’ve liked to have seen Arthur’s loyal lap dog hanging in the square. What a pity that the wall didn’t have time to completely dry. Isn’t it?” A special gleam sparked in her eye.

Leon narrowed his eyes. “Both Princess Mithian and the guards did their duty! King Arthur wanted justice for Merlin and the rest of us! You know nothing of this!”

The Southron backhanded Leon knocking him backward. 

She smirked coldly. Her eyes glinted canary at the impudent knight. “Perhaps you might be of service to me after all, Sir Leon. ”

Leon gasped. His lungs burned as the air fled them. His legs wavered. He collapsed to his knees. He grabbed at his throat. 

“Queen Morgana, please!” the brown haired counsellor implored.

She shook her head. “Not yet…” She considered the choking prisoner. She saw the red streaking his cheeks. 

“Go…spit!” Leon gasped. His lips started to turn blue.

“This isn’t the way!” Cuthbert intervened.

“I’ll tell you what the way is.” She glared at the suffering Leon and then at the others. “No matter. You’ll soon see things my way.” She opened her fist.

Leon rolled over. His lungs filled once more with sweet air. His eyes narrowed. 

She stood and strutted over to the fallen knight. “Such resolve! You never disappoint unlike that clown, Gawain. Just know, I have hundreds of men searching for Arthur and the others. They will be found. I will deal with him. Then I will deal with you and the knights.”

Leon sucked in burning gasps of air. His eyes bore back into hers. Defiance twisted into a smirk. “Do your worst, Morgana. We can take it.”

“We will see.” She motioned to her underling. “Tell the others I have ways to force you all.”

As he was dragged away, Leon’s eyes never left Morgana’s. His eyes blazed away at hers pulling them both into a battle of the wills…one that only ceased with him leaving the area.

“Milady….” Cuthbert started to implore.

She exhaled a sharp breath. “Nay! I don’t want excuses! I want loyalty! I am the Queen by right! Arthur usurped my authority! Know that! Now GO! All of you!” She dismissed him and the other counselors with a shooing motion of her hand. She seethed with unspoken fury. Indignation shuddered her form. “Curse them! Why can’t they see? Their friends can harm them and it’s all right? I am only doing what was right! Arthur brought this on them! He and they denied me!”

At that moment, the raven flew through the window. It alighted on a chair nearby. It cawed at her.

She struggled to comprehend the bird’s presence. Anger swamped her sensibilities. She gulped down several cooling gulps of water. She inhaled calming breaths. She looked toward the bird. Her eyes glinted once again. <”Speak”>

Enhanced by her spell, the bird’s tone transformed into a guttural undertone. Its sharp notes formed into words. _Great Priestess…._

 _Yes, Loyal One. What have you seen? You’d best be here for a reason!_ she retorted fiercely.

 _Aye. Strangers crossed into these lands from the west. They bore standards of emerald. The magical lion accompanied them. You needed to know,_ the raven reported.

Morgana rubbed her chin. She recognized the reference to _Malodius_. The emerald standard marked Nemeth’s renewed presence in Camelot. And if the lion was in there, that meant Mithian led the party. She sniffed. Sarcasm accented the tone. _Aye. I needed to know. It seems the brat never gets the message, does she? Where did you see them, my Messenger?_

The raven screeched before its call coalesced back into words. _By the river. They came from the tall trees beyond the waters. They crossed the waters. They pressed on south._

Morgana considered the report. She recalled Mithian’s rash nature from their meetings as children. She knew how loyal the Princess was toward her friends. She also knew that Rodor would have taken precautions. Knights would accompany the Princess to advise her. _Malodius_ would cost more soldiers than he was worth. She plotted the Nemeth party’s possible courses. 

Mithian, if nothing else, was a hunter. She understood the relationship between hunter and prey. She wouldn’t blunder into a trap…or at least she might not have seemed to do so.

The not-so-repaired breach in Camelot’s walls spoke differently….

 _Even after my idiot half-brother rejected her, the brat still risked war to save him from himself! Why? He rejected her! Why should she care like that? Arthur loves Guinevere. Agravaine used her to achieve our ends._ Morgana rolled her eyes. _What is she? The Princess? The Hunter? Or The Lovesick Girl?_ She shook her head. _Even when he’s running, he attracts attention! HOW?_ “ARGH! DAMN HIM!”

“Something troubles you, Lady?” Helios supposed. He leaned against the far wall. He observed her holding the bird close. He could not understand what her purpose was. 

She breathed deeply. She put her hand up to signal him to wait. Then she turned back to the raven. _Go! Find them!_

 _Aye, Priestess._ The raven flapped its wings. It took off into the air and headed out the open window beyond. 

She huffed a breath. She turned back to face Helios. “We need more eyes out there! We have intruders!” She paced about the stones about the table.

“Intruders? Morgana, our men search the woods for Arthur and the others. We will find them,” he vowed.

“Not just my brother and the knights! No, Mithian leads a group from Nemeth! We have to find them before she can reinforce Arthur!” she insisted.

“Nemeth? Their army is no threat to us.” Helios sighed. “We will soon deal with them. If they shelter Arthur or his supporters, they will pay for their interference.”

She shook her head and stalked from the chamber.

 _Now she listens to birds? Really?_ Helios followed her out of the area. He hoped to calm her and get her thinking in the right direction once again….


	2. Emrys Deals with Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin in his elderly guise deals with the Southrons and his companions....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always in my Merlin pieces, Old Merlin is called Emrys.

[Forest—Fifty Leagues to the North of Camelot]

Gawain glared at the surrounding trees. He muttered a few choice curse words. He held his sword at the ready despite the gashes in his arms. His eyes turned this way and that. “Bloody Devils! Thought we got rid of ‘em!”

“We had a few leagues start on them. With Arthur’s wound and Gaius needing to treat him, we’re moving too slowly,” Percival pointed out. “They caught up!” He peered out from behind a tree not far from Gawain’s right. 

Almost on cue, several arrows whistled through the air sticking into the nearby trees akin to needles on a porcupine. 

Gawain yanked Percival to the grass as several more shafts streaked over their heads.

The giant knight shook his head at the rouge clad attackers lurking just out of sight. Occasionally Sol caught a blade’s edge or a bit of the others’ chain mail. He ground his teeth. Frustration burned in his chest. He wanted a clean fight blade on blade with the Southrons.

Perhaps knowing that, the enemy fired from behind Natura’s blind. They determined to stalk, surround and wear down the refugees. They’d hustled to make up ground lost to Merlin’s machinations. Shortly after midday, they’d begun their sneak assault on the party. With both regular and fire arrows, they harassed the group.

“Just let me stick ‘em! Cowards!” Gawain groused.

“They know better,” Percival acknowledged. Then his eyes went wide. “What in the bloody blazes? Who’s that?”

The duo glanced in a dazed stupor. They beheld a robed figure with a long white beard flowing down his front. He ambled along on a gnarled oak walking stick. Somehow the arrows seemed to fly around him. Occasionally one would bounce off of some glowing energy field around his elderly personage.

“HEY, YOU! GET DOWN!” Percival warned.

“Eh?” The figure turned. From under his hood, his eyes twinkled with Mischief’s purpose. “You two seem to be doin’ really great to advise me such! Can’t even get through the woods without makin’ a ruckus! Fine lot of knights you are!”

Gawain stared. “HEY! It’s that old wizard! Arthur says he killed Uther!” He pointed at the old man.

“As if a mutton head like you would know anything?” Emrys supposed. Sarcasm and Impatience soured his words. “Tha’ was Morgana not me! She cursed my efforts!”

“Likely story!” Percival accused.

Emrys rolled his eyes. At the last second, he raised his hand and muttered a spell. He watched as a stray arrow deflected away from his friends. “The things I do for the ungrateful churls!” He snorted. He raised his staff and growled an almost unintelligible command to the skies.

Without warning, a ring of mist surrounded the Warlock and the knights.

“Now what? What’d you do?” Gawain supposed. 

Overhead the skies darkened blotting out the afternoon sun. Lightning flashed across the sky. Gale force winds howled through the trees ripping leaves from their branches. Rain fell in buckets drenching the ground.

Through the mists, the knights heard the Southrons’ horrified screams. Agony permeated the air followed by a charred odor.

Emrys almost seemed to count heartbeats. He regretted the Southrons’ pain. Still he’d given them the chance earlier to back off. He frowned and rubbed his brow. Then he waved his hand again releasing the spell. He sighed as the conditions returned to normal. “You can thank me any time, Prats!”

“Wait until the King gets a hold of you, Old Man. We’ll…” Percival declared. He advanced on the robed savior intent on bringing the latter to justice.

“Percy, don’t…!” Gawain chided.

Emrys rolled his eyes. He raised his hand and pointed. “LUX DOMINAE!!!”

A brilliant light flooded the clearing blinding the two knights.

“Bloody idiots!” Emrys shook his head before slipping back into the brush. He knew his friends would get their sight back soon enough. Besides he needed to do one thing before returning to camp.

 

****

 

[Camp Site—Fifty Yards Away]

Gaius wiped Arthur’s brow with a wet cloth. He’d advised the King to rest periodically. When Arthur had refused, he’d watched Merlin cast a sleeping spell and a compliance spell on their wounded liege. Worry burned at his mind. He did not care to see the discoloring on Arthur’s side. _His ribs aren’t just bruised. Try getting him to admit that._ He glanced toward the northeast. _At our current pace, we’re looking at least a week before we reach Ealdor. The Southrons won’t stop coming. Merlin’s done his best to keep them at bay. Still how long can he keep it up before Gawain and Percival get suspicious?_ He furrowed his brow.

“Gaius?” Merlin stepped out of the brush. Over his right arm, he carried the gray hooded robe. He quickly stuffed it into the brush. “How is he?”

Gaius arched the Eyebrow at him. “How do you suppose, Merlin? Even at our current pace, he worsens. The ribs are cracked, I fear. We shouldn’t move him.”

Merlin sighed. Irritation over their current straits elicited an eye roll from him. “Watch for the others.” He inspected the darkening wound on Arthur’s side. “All clear?”

“No sign of them,” Gaius informed him.

Merlin nodded. He touched Arthur’s side. _“Leigheas!”_

Magic flowed from his finger and into Arthur’s side. It gently sealed the ribs’ cracks. It eased the purpling on the skin. 

“That did something,” Merlin noted. He turned to his mentor. “Hopefully Arthur can walk soon.”

“And hopefully Gawain and Percival won’t notice your cloak? Merlin, tell me you didn’t wear it out there,” Gaius pointed out.

“Maybe if I showed up in my regular clothes? Love to see how I’d explain that,” Merlin retorted. “At least the Southrons are taken care of.” He shook his head.

Gaius looked at him. “Define taken care of. What did you do?”

Merlin shrugged. “I took the aging serum. Then I cast a storm spell. The Southrons wouldn’t stop. Lightning got some of them. The others I presume took off. I had to blind Gawain and Percival to get away from them. Prats.”

“You…what? Merlin!” 

“Gaius, we would have been caught. I didn’t exactly have a choice! Protect the King, right?” Merlin argued.

“And keeping yourself alive might be an important part of the matter. You’re going to get yourself killed one day.” Gaius shook his head. He turned his back on the younger man. He inspected Merlin’s handiwork. “At least you bought Arthur some time, Merlin. He should be able to walk some distance.”

“I couldn’t get all of it. Sorry,” Merlin apologized.

“You did well on this at least,” Gaius conceded; the Eyebrow arching yet another half foot (or so it seemed). “And how do you propose to keep Arthur and the knights in the dark where magic is concerned?”

“That’s why I did the potion. Let them think the Old Man did it not me. Those soldiers will blame Emrys. Morgana’s scared of him. She’ll hesitate. That’ll buy us some more time,” Merlin explained. He touched Arthur’s forehead and withdrew the sleeping spell. “I’m leaving the suggestion spell in place.”

“As long as you don’t abuse it,” Gaius reminded the other sternly. Still he had to admire Merlin’s strategy. He could see how the young man’s planning had deflected any use of magic away from himself toward Emrys. He’d have Arthur and the knights looking for an invisible phantom. Meantime Morgana would be paralyzed by the elderly wizard’s reported appearance on the scene.

“Necessity, Gaius. Remember? We’re not out here on a hunt or royal progress,” Merlin shot back.

“Uhh….” Arthur stirred and blinked. He turned gingerly onto his side. “What did you both do?” He smiled. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“We gave you a numbing tincture, Sire,” Gaius lied. “You’re healing remarkably well.”

Arthur nodded slowly. His eyes seemed slightly glazed over. “Whatever you did, Gaius, well done. We need cover. What would you suggest?”

Merlin noted the thinning trees ahead. He looked through them to see a Nazarene spiritual structure. He nodded noting that the building would offer a degree of cover and a measure of protection. Perhaps the group could disguise themselves as well. He returned to the physician and their patient. “There’s a temple ahead. We can go there.”

“Merlin, we shouldn’t bring the war to them,” Gaius disagreed.

“As if Morgana will play nice? Gaius, come on!” Merlin protested.

Gaius sighed heavily. 

“Merlin has a point. We should do it,” Arthur agreed.

Satisfaction warmed Merlin’s heart. Although he knew Arthur cared, he was glad not to be called an idiot for once. “Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate it.”

“You are very wise, Merlin,” Arthur complimented uncharacteristically. 

Gaius looked at Merlin pointedly. 

“What? He knows what’s best,” Merlin declared. He heard rustling from the brush. “Now what?”

Gawain and Percival emerged from the foliage. Disorientation wobbled their steps. They rubbed their foreheads. They blinked their eyes while trying to get rid of the spots before their eyes. 

“What happened to you both?” Gaius asked. 

“We were ambushed,” Percival told them.

“Ambushed? What is it?” Arthur turned to his two knights. 

“The Southrons, Arthur. You know? Those creeps with Morgana? They’re gone though. Bloody prats. They’re running,” Gawain reported. He edited out any reference to Emrys or the magical carnage he’d exacted on their pursuers. He shook his head ever so slightly at Percival.

“Good to see you on your feet.” Percival looked Arthur over. He focused on the King’s ability to stand and walk around even if the latter seemed a little lightheaded. “Perhaps we might disguise ourselves? The soldiers know what we look like.”

“There’s a Nazarene temple ahead of us. They should have something of use,” Merlin informed the two knights.

“Maybe some of that bread and wine too? I could use somethin’ good to eat,” Gawain supposed.

Out of nowhere, a bit of thunder boomed above almost in reply.

“Maybe you’d best quit while you’re ahead, Gawain,” Percival urged.

“Whatever.” Gawain frowned. His stomach could out rumble the source of that thunder. He could guarantee that……


	3. Necessity Drives Merlin's Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While in their temporary refuge, Merlin finds ways to keep the company safe....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of mischief here. No flames please.....

[A Quarter Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Percival crept up to the temple. He kept careful watch for any more Southrons coming from the woods. He looked in the windows and around the perimeter. He poked his head in the door.

Strangely the temple was deserted. 

He slowly drew his sword. He stepped into the entry way. He shook his head. He imagined the residents being driven from their worship or worse. Still Silence stifled the area. He glanced back to see Gawain. “Did you see anything?”

“Not a soul, Mate.” Gawain stepped into the structure. “At least we don’t have to put up with that ranting and ritual stuff.” He rolled his eyes. 

Percival shrugged. He turned and marched back through the door. He pointed toward the nearby forest’s edge and motioned with a gloved hand.

From it, Merlin and Gaius helped Arthur across the clearing. To say that they almost felt naked was an understatement to say the least. The trio hustled as much as they possibly could manage.

“I can do this on my own, you know,” Arthur reminded the others.

“I am sure you can, Sire,” Gaius acknowledged. “Still you must keep your strength up.”

“We do have your best interests at heart,” Merlin added. 

“I would…assume.” Arthur staggered slightly. He gripped his side. 

“Told you so.” Merlin jabbed good-naturedly. He smirked.

Gaius shook his head at Merlin. The Eyebrow arched with Disapproval’s flare.

Merlin sighed. Granted he understood the gravity of their situation. Still he wanted to keep things as even keeled as possible. Part of that meant jabbing Arthur. _Maybe we should get those guys back on us again? There are worse things!_ He worked with Gaius to get Arthur into the temple. Then he shut the door behind them. “It seems clear.”

“It seems that. Them buggers could come crawling out of the woods any time though,” Gawain pointed out. “You see anything, Percy?”

“Not a thing.” Percival inspected the vestibule again as well as the main chamber. “At least this is secure.”

“This would be the first place they would search,” Gaius assumed. He helped Arthur to sit down in the corner. “I need to look at that wound.”

“Gaius, we need to move on,” Arthur insisted. “Merlin’s right. We need to head to Ealdor. Once we cross the border, we’ll be safe.”

“Never thought I’d hear ol’ Arthur admit that…at least not in front of us.” Gawain coughed. He considered his armor and then Percival’s and Arthur’s. “We stick out like sore thumbs.”

Merlin got up. “I’ll look around. Maybe there’s something we can use?” He vanished through the side door.

“Hope he finds some food. We don’t have much.” Percival looked at the wounded Arthur, Gawain and Gaius. He deduced that what little rations they’d managed to grab on the run from the palace would be gone by the next day at the most. With the Southrons scouring the forest, he imagined that the hunting would be atrocious. He frowned wishing again he could lead the group north toward his adopted home. _Blancheflor would protect us even at cost to herself._ He shook the dreamy wish off. _I can’t lead Morgana’s soldiers toward her. Fortunately Merlin has taken that choice on himself._ He walked back toward Gawain. “I’m going to take a look outside. Be right back.”

“Just watch your arse,” Gawain reminded him. After the other slipped back out the front, he shook his head. Don’t be stupid. He returned to the others. 

“You two making decisions now?” Arthur closed his eyes and sat up against the wall. He endured Gaius’ tightening the wrap around his torso. 

“Like we trust you at a time like this?” Gawain teased. Impetuousness sparked in his eye. He smirked in typical devil may care fashion. 

Arthur coughed. “I am still King, Gawain.” For some reason, the knight’s attitude didn’t seem to grate on him as much at that point. He relaxed under the spell’s influence. “Maybe Merlin’s rubbing off on you. One can hope.”

“Yes well. I hope Merlin can find something of use,” Gaius interjected. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief. He saw the younger healer emerge back into the chamber without anything in hand. “Surely there’s something?”

“Yeah actually there is,” Merlin assured them. He produced four loaves of bread. “Whoever was here left in a hurry. Here’s the food they left. I…umm….found something to disguise ourselves with.”

“Now you’re talking!” Arthur praised. “See, Gawain? Maybe you might try being smart like Merlin!”

Skepticism arched Gaius’ eyebrow. His narrowed eye deflated Merlin’s enjoyment at that particular moment. _What is that spell doing to Arthur?_ “Yes, Merlin, do let us know what you found.”

Merlin sighed. He frowned. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. The Southrons will be looking for Knights of Camelot. The last thing they’ll suspect would be a Nazarene priest and two nuns escorting two healers to Ealdor. Right?”

“Two nuns? Hrumph!” Gaius could well imagine what Merlin was up to. He shook his head.

Arthur, due to the spell, accepted, “Anything for my loyal servant!” He slowly stood and ambled over to Merlin. He took one set of clothes. Then he took off his armor.

“And who’s the other nun? Percy’s a little tall as much as that would be bloody funny and….” Gawain stared at Merlin. “Oh Hell No!”

“Take an example from the King, right?” Merlin supposed. He fought to keep a straight face. “Hey if Arthur can do it, so can you.”

“The disguises will help us if we run into the Southrons,” Percival pointed out. He returned in a monastic robe with its hood hanging down his back. “Merlin, this might work.” He saw Gawain considering the nun’s outfit with as much enthusiasm as a child might a plate of liver and castor oil. “The idea seems better now.”

“You put this on then and I’ll be the bloody monk!” Gawain retorted.

“Perhaps you’ll understand the next wench before you take her?” Percival jabbed. “Think of it as gaining insight.”

“I won’t have you revealing our position, Gawain,” Arthur insisted. He pulled on the head covering. “I could have you shave too. Just put it on and we’ll start out again.”

Gawain’s mouth puckered as if he’d bitten into a sour apple. Indignation burned in his craw. “I thought you were my mate, Merlin. Whatever!” He grabbed the remaining nun’s outfit and stalked out the door.

Seemed that the day was going from bad to worse where some were concerned….


	4. Gwen Ponders....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen hammers out her thoughts along with tools on the forge. She and Mithian speak more on things....

Chapter 4 [Twenty Leagues Directly South of Camelot’s Citadel]

After crossing the Severn, Nemeth’s party pressed south along Camelot’s southern border. They seemed to defy conventional logic in diverting off the well-traversed path. For days, they followed Stealth’s mantra. They tromped through tall grass and brush. Their horses waded through streams rarely seen by noble eyes. 

Still Reason revealed its purpose. As the group reached the village of Tyreborough, the invaders’ devastation still smoldered before them. Thatched huts—or what remained of them—sat in burnt piles. Soot, ash and half-burnt wood bore Battle’s charred scars across their weather worn surfaces. Smoke still lingered in the air.

Before this sight, Doubt no longer held sway over the company. Morgana’s scheme lay clear like an open book. Whatever hope that the Southrons’ army hadn’t come that way dissipated like snow before Spring’s warmth. 

And so they set themselves to assist for the moment……

 

****

 

Gwen bit her lip. Her heart sank from the devastation. She’d immediately jumped into the cause. As the others helped to rebuild structures, she’d restarted the village forge. Much as she’d seen her father do, she scavenged half burnt wood and peat from the common. She stoked the flames with an iron prong and bellows. She wiped her brow from the flames’ heat. Then she donned the former smith’s apron and began her task. With hammer and Determination, she began Renewal’s task.

Sparks flew through the air as the hammer struck the metal. 

Air pumped the flames softening broken and cracked tools.

Metal liquefied in that furnace glowing bright white and orange in a metal pail. It bubbled and frothed in its container. 

She used tongs to pour the orange liquid into the cast molds. She dunked repaired tools in an oaken bucket of water. She heard the water hiss in response. She observed a cloud of steam escape into the air. 

For once, weapons and armor weren’t the priority. She’d seen that around the citadel in Camelot. No she had other things clearly in mind. She worked on shovels and horseshoes first. She focused on rebuilding allowing the others to keep watch for the moment at least. As the implements cooled, she stood them against the wall. Her ears rang from the tools’ final impacts.

Dedication bent the implements back into shape. It sealed the cracks and reshaped Hate’s imperfections. It enabled the process to start anew…to allow the users to have faith in them once more.

Much as with her bond to Arthur….

She stuck a cooling blade into the water bucket. After the steam had risen and the bubbles had ceased, she considered it again. Yes it was the same sword. It had endured Battle’s damage. Now it lay renewed and ready. It would do its best next time not to fail the wielder.

_I wish Arthur would understand. I made a mistake. One! Morgana has deceived all of us at one point or another._ She set the sword down beside the other tools. Her heart ached. _I’ve sacrificed too! I’m giving all I have to save Camelot. Certainly Arthur can see that! Hasn’t exile been enough of a punishment?_ She sighed. _No matter the cause, Gwen, you made the choice. Arthur had to deal with the matter as he did. At least Merlin still has his back._ She smiled at the thought of her friend. _He won’t let anything happen to Arthur. He would remain true no matter what._

“Water, Guinevere?”

The voice shattered her focus. Gwen stiffened. With the cocoon broken, Fatigue weighed down upon her shoulders and arms. Stiffness tightened her fingers. Heat burned at her face and features. She turned to find her love’s former fiancée watching her. “I’d like that…Princess Mithian. Still you shouldn’t be serving me.”

Mithian sighed. With each heartbeat of watching Gwen, Respect had washed away any of Jealousy’s hold. Politics demanded her move past Arthur’s rejection of their potential marriage. Besides Admiration pushed her past the potential barriers between her and the servant/former rival.

Merlin could work, serve and lead….

And now she clearly saw Gwen doing the same….

“You carry yourself far better than most nobles, Guinevere. I don’t care about your class origins. I can see why Arthur loves you.” Mithian held the wooden cup in front of herself. 

“Much as you love Merlin?” Gwen presumed. She accepted the cup. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Mithian frowned feeling very much exposed. Trust still worked at her mind to establish a greater foothold where the other woman was concerned. Still Instinct told her to pursue the other’s friendship. “Merlin has proven himself to me. While he needs one more task for King Rodor’s approval and Nemethian law, he has certainly done enough under Camelot’s law to be emancipated and ennobled.”

“I won’t argue with that.” Gwen exhaled. Her lungs and heart burned at the thought of Arthur and Merlin being separated. “Arthur will.”

“Merlin lives to serve others. Perhaps Arthur might consider what’s best for the Five Kingdoms? Merlin could serve the Greater Good at my side. You could do the same at Arthur’s side. They can collaborate openly and equally,” Mithian reminded.

Gwen bit her lip. “And who protects Arthur? Merlin just has a way of doing it.”

“Again, Guinevere, how does Merlin protect and serve? What’s best for him?” Mithian motioned to the forge. “There are those in our own expedition who consider you ill-suited for this forge much less as Arthur’s consort. They’d bury you back in the royal household as a servant. They’d seduce you or try to do so.” She curled her lips into a sour frown. “That’s not fair to you. Is it?”

“No it isn’t.” Gwen sipped the last drop from the wooden cup. “I guess I’m being selfish. I want Arthur to be happy.”

“And I want Merlin to be happy. While he’d gladly serve the court, he can’t truly be himself in that role. He needs more.” Mithian rolled her eyes. “And yes, I need more too. Still I’m trying to consider his needs before my own.” She slumped onto a nearby wood box. She rubbed her forehead. She could feel Merlin’s consternation and anxiety. _Now what?_ She knew it focused on Arthur but didn’t know exactly what.

“And we’re helping Morgana’s victims. You put them first despite the fact that they aren’t your subjects. That is consideration and sacrifice, Princess. You aren’t being selfish,” Gwen complimented.

“Thank you. I’m trying to keep that in mind,” Mithian accepted. “We have an obligation to put those less fortunate than ourselves first. You do that instinctively, Guinevere. I see how you inspire others. Those qualities would serve you well as Queen. Remember where you come from always.”

“I will.” Gwen nodded. Admiration blossomed anew in her heart for the woman in front of herself. She pumped the bellows. She watched the crimson sparks dance like fireflies in the dim light. “I have a few more tools to repair. Then I’ll help out there as you need me to.”

Mithian nodded. “Thank you. I….”

At that moment, Belvidere poked his head into the forge. “My Lady! We’ve been attacked! A large white monster has just emerged from the woods! We’re getting ready to meet it in battle.”

“Monster?” Mithian’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t hear _Malodius’_ roar strangely enough. “Show me.” She set aside Frustration’s load and quickly rushed after the knight.

_Now what? Morgana, what have you done?_ Gwen quickly set a sword into the coals for repair. Then she glanced outside. Her eyes went wide at what she saw next. _Merlin, where are you?_


	5. Aithusa Causes a Stir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Nemeth delegation makes a new friend.

Chapter 5 [Ten Minutes Earlier]

Even as Battle burned across Britannia, Aithusa meandered above the clouds. Abandonment propelled her across indeterminable leagues. Loneliness nudged her to find another like her or perhaps the self-centered master who’d called her from the egg only to abandon her shortly thereafter.

_Yes that one. Emrys._

The white dragon narrowed her eyes. Smoke billowed from the sides of her snout. Her wings beat faster as she traversed a leagues-long clearing. _What use is that one? He doesn’t care about anything! He…._ She hesitated. Her senses picked up on something familiar.

Emrys wasn’t nearby. Still something connected to him was….something like herself. 

She dove through the clouds. As she reached the ground, she beheld the damaged village. She smelled the charred remains about herself. She saw the Nemeth delegation assisting and rebuilding the buildings. Indecision bogged down her thinking. She warily considered her options. _Should I try to help? Will the humans try to hurt me again? Still maybe the Dragon Lord will pay attention if I help? What should I do?_

Hesitation froze her in her tracks it seemed……

 

****

 

Ywain patted a freshly covered grave with the borrowed shovel. He looked back over the morning’s labor. His heart sagged under Lament’s burden. “Such is the cost of war.” He shook his head. Noting Galahad’s approach, he called out, “Ho, Sir Galahad! Are there any more unfortunates to be buried?”

“Nay, Sir Ywain. I believe we have done them all good service on this day,” Galahad replied. He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his gloved hand. “The others repair the damaged dwellings here in the village.” He ground his teeth. “How many more hamlets lie in ruins?”

“We cannot help them all. Princess Mithian would have us do so. Still the Witch must be dealt with,” Ywain declared. He looked about the village square. “Speaking of Princess Mithian, where is she?”

“She brings water to everyone. Beyond that, I do not know.” Galahad looked about the square. He nodded with some satisfaction. “Even the Lady Blancheflor and Guinevere contribute to our cause.”

“And _Malodius_ keeps watch as always,” Ywain pointed out. He set the shovel against a tree. “I would see for myself. With your leave?”

“Survey the village. Ensure that all is secure. Thank you, Sir Ywain,” Galahad agreed. “I will check on the buildings and….” His eyes went wide. “Look! To the forest’s edge!” He drew his sword.

Ywain saw Aithusa amble out of the trees. He froze for a heartbeat. “What is the creature’s intent? It has made no move save to watch.”

“What else would it do?” Galahad glared at his companion. Prejudice clouded his better judgement. “It sizes up potential prey.” He took a step.

“I agree. We should be ready. Still even a small dragon can kill. Do not incite it unnecessarily,” Ywain pointed out. He saw Mithian rush to their side. “Princess, we have a new threat.”

“A new threat?” Mithian looked to Aithusa. She didn’t sense Malice or Anger in the other’s mood. Rather she felt Confusion and Indecision’s respective influences on the dragon. Her eye seemed to meet Aithusa’s. _Can you understand me? Are you like the other dragon?_

Aithusa stopped cold in her tracks. The telepathic contact raised a red flag in her mind. In Mithian, she noted the presence she’d sensed earlier. _Other dragon? I thought I was the last one!_

_Nay. There is one other at least. We mean you no harm. What is your purpose here?_ Mithian exhaled evenly. She held up a hand to urge restraint on the knights’ part.

_I felt a familiar presence. I seek my master, the one who called me from the egg. You are not him. Why though do I feel him through you? Are you a dragon lady?_ Aithusa clarified.

_I am not. You feel my Chosen One, Merlin, through me perhaps? I am Mithian, Princess of Nemeth. And you are?_ Mithian wondered.

_Aithusa. I wish I knew more. I am so lonely._ Aithusa sulked. She bowed her head. _I mean you no harm. The pain here is intolerable._

_It is indeed, Young Dragon, Malodius_ chimed in. His eyes inspected Aithusa. His senses felt none of Kilgarrah’s arrogance or malice in the White Dragon. _It is as she says, Princess. There is no malice in this Aithusa._

_You speak? What are you?_ Aithusa stepped back. Suspicion and Alarm jarred her.

_A creature of magic like yourself, Aithusa. I am Malodius, Protector of the Nemeth Court. I bid you welcome. Malodius_ bowed with Reverence’s grace before the newcomer. _We could use your eyes and wings to assist our efforts._

_I’d like some friends. Can you help me find my Dragon Lord, Malodius?_ Aithusa accepted.

_We seek him and his allies. Malodius_ turned to Mithian. _With your leave, Good Lady._

_We would not turn a good hand away out of spite._ Mithian strode forward. She inhaled a calming breath. Then she rubbed Aithusa’s leg. “Welcome then. Perhaps you might keep watch with _Malodius_? We shall be underway soon.”

_I shall. Thank you_ , Aithusa accepted gratefully. _Can you show me how to help, Malodius?_

_I would be delighted. Follow me,_ the lion beckoned. He led Aithusa toward the other side of the hamlet.

“I’ve never seen such a thing! Curious indeed!” Galahad insisted.

“I trust _Malodius_ in such matters,” Ywain affirmed. He nodded to Mithian. “You handled that matter with skill, Princess.”

“Thank you. I would not harm an innocent creature in search of herself. We will watch her but treat her kindly. I would not deny a friend of any kind,” Mithian accepted. “What is the status of our efforts?”

“The last bodies are buried, Princess,” Galahad indicated. He sheathed his sword. “I believe the structures will be rebuilt soon.” He noted the peasants huddled just within the forest’s edge. “Perhaps though we might complete those efforts and move on? They don’t seem so understanding.”

“They are dazed and confused. I remember well when Meleagant of Cawdor laid waste to my village years ago. The bile never goes away. Be patient with them, Sir Galahad.” Gawain bowed to her. “Princess, with your leave?”

“Of course. Complete the repairs on the roofs. Then we shall take our leave.” Mithian watched as the two knights set to their tasks. Maybe we can all live in peace one day? I can hope! She noted Gwen smiling next to her. 

“Very nicely done, Princess. Very nicely done indeed,” Gwen complimented. Then she headed back to the forge.

_If only I felt the same. Merlin, where are you?_ Mithian looked to the northeast. She knew the direction. Still she had no idea where to go or what would be waiting in their path next.

What indeed?


	6. Merlin Deals with his Empathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin picks up on Mithian and wonders what's going on. Kilgarrah explains....

[Sunset—Hours Later and Leagues Away from the Nazarene Temple]

Merlin sat on a fallen log. He rubbed the back of his head. All afternoon, he’d persevered through a pounding headache. His arms dimpled. His hair stood on end. Several times he’d shot looks over his shoulder. He heard voices but didn’t understand their source. 

Fortunately the others seemed more occupied with the journey and dealing with their own trials. Gaius ambled along the path and changed Arthur’s bandages every so often. Percival scouted ahead. Gawain groused about his straits. Still he held his sword ready and his eyes open.

Tension lay so thickly around them. It seemed to ooze out of the air itself.

_Could Morgana be altering our perceptions?_ He grimaced knowing full well how easily such a spell could mess with anyone’s mind. Under the influence of such a spell, one might think they were walking right down the center of a safe trail. In truth, said traveler could be teetering right on the edge of an abyss and never know it. He glanced around again at the twilit woods. 

_Where are you, Merlin?_ Mithian called in his head (or he swore he heard her voice).

“Princess?” Merlin queried. He turned in a complete circle. “Great. Now I’m hearing things.” He rubbed his ears and eyes. Doubt crept across his brain. “Great. Now this is getting to me.” He slumped back onto the log. In addition to the voices, Emotion clashed with his brain.

…others’ emotions and not his own….

He could almost feel Mithian’s aura next to him. His shoulder flinched as her fingers seemed to slide over it. Her anxiety barged into his mind.

“Merlin?” Gaius looked pointedly at him. Unlike the others, he recognized his protégé’s discomfort. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing, Gaius. We have to get Arthur to safety.” Merlin frowned. “I wish we could have a fire.”

“While it would warm us, it would attract the Southrons. I don’t have to tell you that we need to conceal our progress,” Gaius disagreed. “What’s wrong?”

Merlin coughed. “Gaius, it’s crazy. I hear people talking about me. When I look around, they’re gone. I feel emotions too. I don’t understand it.”

Gaius nodded. He put his palm on Merlin’s forehead. Then he felt for the younger man’s pulse. “You don’t have a fever. Pulse is a little elevated but not overly much.” He sighed. “We’ll have to be careful especially if you need to use your magic.”

“I’m always careful,” Merlin argued. Seeing the Eyebrow arch in disagreement, he sighed. “Well I try to be careful.”

Gaius nodded. “Perhaps we might consider using it only as a last resort? I fear there may be a Lorelei in these woods. It’s curious being that we’re far away from any river. Still a Faerie or perhaps the Sidhe could be working with Morgana against you? They still bear you ill will.”

Merlin grimaced. She recalled how such spells had been used against Uther, Arthur and Gwen. “How can I know what’s real and what isn’t then?” He glanced around to make sure the knights were still out of earshot. 

“You won’t. I’ll have to keep my eyes open for both of us,” Gaius proposed.

_Or perhaps you could trust your abilities, Merlin?_ Kilgarrah supposed telepathically.

“There it is again!” Merlin realized.

_I assure you, Young Warlock. There is no spell or creature conspiring against you,_ the Great Dragon told him. _Your abilities are developing. You feel your One coming into her own. Mithian of Nemeth grows into her role in surprising ways. Call out to her._

“Merlin? Merlin, what is it?” Gaius asked. Anxiety accented his tone. He shook Merlin.

Merlin didn’t respond. _Reach out to her? First I hear voices. Now I can feel her presence? That’s absurd!_

_No more than you denying your true nature, Merlin. Due to her connection with you, the Princess has…well now…she does amaze. Perhaps if you paid as much attention to your purpose,_ Kilgarrah snarked.

_What? What’s happened now?_ Merlin panicked. His heart pounded. His mind swam.

_So much the drama. JUST ASK!_ the Great Dragon pressed. Impatience slammed through his voice into Merlin’s psyche. 

_All right!_ Merlin spasmed and twitched. He shook his head. “No creatures or spells, Gaius. It seems we have a new situation. I’m dealing with empathy now too.”

“Empathy? How so?” Gaius asked.

“It’s like how you or I can hear Kilgarrah or _Malodius_. I’m feeling them too,” Merlin explained. 

“Feeling them? Are you certain it isn’t Morgana? She may have discovered you and….” Gaius doubted.

_I believe you should know my voice, Gaius,_ Kilgarrah interrupted. _I assure you. The Witch is not meddling with us at this point. Would you not say, Great One?_

“Great One? What?” Gaius wondered.

_He refers to me, Master Gaius. Although you have not heard me speak before, we met at Camelot. I am Malodius, companion to Sir Ywain and protector of the Nemeth court, Malodius_ chimed in. _Merlin, you are imagining the connection. We can feel you much as you feel Princess Mithian. What of the Young King? Is he with you?_

_Yes Arthur’s here. He’s wounded. Still I healed him somewhat. We’re heading toward the Mercian border. My home village lies just north of there. We’ll be safe for a little while at least. Morgana won’t come north of the border yet. If Lot stays away, it’ll give us some space,_ Merlin explained. 

_For once, Young Warlock, you’re making sense_ , Kilgarrah assessed. _Still you have a great deal of ground to cover and little time to do it in. The Witch won’t rest until you all are captured or worse._

_Aye. Still we…. Malodius_ started.

_Merlin?_ Mithian interrupted. 

_Now I’m hearing her voice again. Great. I…._ Merlin doubted.

_Merlin, I’m really here,_ Mithian insisted. Relief flooded through her mind. _Where are you? Are you all right?_

_I can really hear you?_ Merlin blinked. 

_Yes, Merlin. You *really* are hearing me. We don’t have time to debate the point,_ Mithian affirmed. _Lady Morgana’s malice burns at Camelot. We are helping here in Tyreborough. I hope to resume our progress by first light. Besides we have made a friend here. It seems another dragon searches for you._

_For me? I…._ Merlin’s mind pondered the possibilities for a few heartbeats. Then he remembered. _Aithusa?_

_Yes. So you did call hatch her then?_ Mithian bit back a lecture about neglecting and abandoning the White Dragon. 

_I called her forth. I didn’t know what she’d need to learn,_ Merlin defended himself. _Is she all right?_

_She’s confused and angry. Still she has been helpful. Malodius and I have forged a friendship with her. Perhaps Kilgarrah and you might do the same?_ Mithian pointed out. _Is Arthur with you?_

_Yes Arthur’s here. He’s hurt but I’ve healed him enough to keep us moving. I wish we had horses so that we could move faster,_ Merlin replied. 

_Do not attract attention overly much. We are but a long day’s ride from you. Just watch your back please, Merlin. Don’t be rash,_ Mithian requested.

_Merlin? Overly rash? Why ever would we think *that*?_ Kilgarrah asked; Sarcasm’s bile hanging on his tongue.

_So not helping!_ Merlin fired back. 

_We will be there as soon as possible, Merlin. Stand firm, Malodius_ told him.

_You all do the same. Princess, just don’t go charging any walls or anything,_ Merlin told them.

_I wouldn’t have to if certain servants would stay out of trouble. We wouldn’t happen to know anyone like that? Would we?_ Mithian countered not giving an inch.

Merlin felt his cheeks burning. Embarrassment’s crimson streaked across his face. _Well I had to return a necklace. Didn’t I? I didn’t want you to be disappointed._

_And I’m not. I just want you to be careful. I’ll try to do the same. Be with you soon, Merlin. In the meantime, if you need us, just call out. I will hear you,_ Mithian clarified.

_And…and if I just want to talk?_ Merlin squirmed; his own heart fighting with his head’s sensibilities at that point. His heart skipped a beat in spite of the current situation.

_We can do that too of course. Why, Merlin! Is there something you wish to say?_ Mithian agreed. She of course felt his emotions as well.

_Uh…not right now._ Merlin bit his lip. He could almost feel the confident smirk and the gleam in her eye even across the leagues between them. _Still it helps when friends can hear you._

_Yes, Merlin, it does. Remember you’re never alone. Trust in those of us who’d help you. Maybe Aithusa and you can talk? She’d like a friend too,_ Mithian agreed.

_And you?_ Merlin asked.

_And me what?_ Mithian replied. _I can always use friends. Depends if certain servants can find their way around the forest. You’d best get back to Arthur._

_Yeah. Arthur._ Merlin sighed. Talk to you soon. With that he closed the link. _I can really hear and talk to her like this? Seriously?_ He glanced over at Gaius who still watched him intently. “I can see you.”

“I wondered if you’d lost your mind,” the physician informed him. “I heard Kilgarrah and someone named _Malodius_.”

“That’s the lion who travels with Sir Ywain. I guess I wasn’t imagining things after all,” Merlin realized. He stood slowly. “There’s another dragon with them.”

“Merlin, Uther killed the other dragons. He….” Gaius stopped as he realized. “The golden egg? It hatched?”

“It did. There’s a white dragon named Aithusa. I kind of helped her to hatch,” Merlin explained. He grimaced.

“And you let her fly around unsupervised? Really, Merlin? What would’ve happened if Arthur or Morgana had found that creature?” Gaius lectured. “Unsupervised she’d be capable of great harm to herself or others!”

“Kind of busy here,” Merlin defended himself. He stalked back toward where the others watched over Arthur.

_How does he manage to keep his head on his shoulders? Sometimes I wonder!_ Gaius complained to himself. Then he hustled off in pursuit of Merlin.

Questions abounded……


	7. Morgana's Next Strategy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's so short. Pressing with this a bit....

Chapter 7 [Camelot]

Morgana paced about the throne chamber. She’d spent that day consolidating her rule further. She’d dispatched troops to the countryside to inspect the outlying villages. She’d herded the captive knights up to the chamber in a futile attempt to coerce their allegiance. After the troops had pushed the town’s residents into the central common below the citadel, she’d addressed them. She’d tried to assure them of her good will. She’d asked only for their loyalty.

In return, Bile splashed in her face. Her ears burned with chants of ”Long live the King!”. Indignation scalded in retaliation. 

_Arthur….always Arthur._

_He is such an idiot! He allows Camelot to fall into near ruin. His mind is constantly on the next battle. He persecutes the Old Religion and those with magic. And they LOVE him? How does Arthur command such loyalty? HOW?_ Her eyes burned into the still hanging Pendragon banner above the throne. _This won’t stop until he is captured._ She scowled.

“Something else vexes you, Lady?” Helios supposed from the hall. He’d observed her for the majority of the day but said little. Rather he’d chosen to observe the situation and people around them. He’d just come from addressing his lieutenants in the courtyard.

“Yes, Helios. Arthur vexes me. The ungrateful people vex me. What else?” she snapped.

He arched an eyebrow at her. He understood that her rage wasn’t directed at him. Rather Frustration goaded her onward. Accordingly he allowed her a measure of space. “You know why. Arthur allowed them to largely govern themselves.”

“Yes well, he does prefer to play at rule rather than doing it. Pity that the people don’t understand. I only want them to flourish, Helios. There is a larger order.”

“And apparently they learned to ignore that order. You want them to go along with your will. Leave them with no alternative.” He exhaled heavily. “Raldon and Samuel will take their squadrons at first light to find Arthur and the others.”

She nodded. “As always, you know my mind, Helios. Thank you.” She reached behind the throne. When she turned back to him, she held a small black kitten. “Do you like my new friend?” She stroked the animal’s head allowing the latter a smile. 

He furrowed his brow. He wouldn’t have expected her to be playing with a pet at such a point. “My Lady, we should be planning our next move.”

“And I am, Helios. Rest assured.” She set the kitten on the stone floor. Her eyes glowed. She chanted in an long forgotten dialect. 

The kitten yowled. It arched its back. A blood red glow seared its skin. Its eye glowed cobalt blue. Then it grew to its adult size and beyond. It sprouted wings. It growled more like a tiger than the cat it had been. It hissed almost like a snake.

“Behold, Helios. Behold my not-so-little friend, the _Cath Palgau_ ,” she exulted. A predatory grin spread across her face. Anticipation glinted in her eyes. She stroked its head. “There. There now, Little One.”

The creature purred under her gentle touch.

She held a scrap of silken fabric in front of it. “Find the wearer of this, Sweet. Do bring Arthur back to me, will you?” She allowed the creature to sniff it.

It roared. Then it flapped its wings and flew out the window. It vanished over the tree tops.

“Now we’ll see how long Arthur and the others can hide.” She rubbed her chin with her right hand. “Suddenly I’m hungry. Care to join me?”

“I could use some dinner myself. Thank you,” he accepted. He followed her from the chamber.

Seemed that things were about to come to a head…..


	8. Arthur and Gawain Get In Deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana adds to Arthur and Gawain's discontent so to speak.....

Chapter 8 [Several Hours Later—Woods Slightly Closer to Mercian Border]

Gawain rubbed his hands together trying to generate warmth in his palms. He could almost understand why the group didn’t light a fire. He definitely didn’t want to stay too long in one place and make a formal camp. Paranoia and Caution urged pointed glances in all directions into the darkened woods. He wished they had horses.

He also wished his legs and lower extremities would warm up. His feet weighed down like leaden anchors. His knees quaked. He could barely feel his legs. The disguise did little to impede the wind. He ground his teeth and stepped another pace through the soft dirt. _I have to be a nun. Really? Ol’ Arthur needs to be put in his place. But me? Hey I just try to be a great guy and all that! Certainly they could make me do something else!_ He rubbed his legs again. He leaned against a tree.

“Stand straight and be a man, Gawain,” Arthur chided. He had knotted the ends of his skirt around his legs to make something resembling pants. He ambled (or rather waddled) through the brush. Despite the half-healed wound, he made good time toward the other.

“Kind of the royal outlook? Eh?” Gawain supposed with a bit of cynicism. “Chin up no matter how humiliating?”

“We’ve been in worse messes. At least there’s nobody who will tell anyone,” Arthur assured (more himself than Gawain).

Gawain coughed. “Percy will let the other knights know. And Merlin? He rats on your belt holes. Look, I like the guy. Still he’ll let it slip. You know he will.”

“True.” Arthur grimaced. As much as he said otherwise, he did rely on Merlin’s support behind the scenes. Of course he also knew Gawain was correct in his assessment. Often times he told Merlin as much. “We do have more pressing matters than Merlin at the moment. Did you see anything in the forest?”

“Other than a stray bird, nope. Never thought I’d say this but I’ll be glad when we’re in Mercia. I feel like those creeps could pop up behind any rock or tree,” Gawain told him. “We sure we can’t have a fire? I’d like to eat some game.”

“If you’d like to try and hunt, be my guest. Of course you might also give away our position,” Arthur disagreed. 

“Yeah well some of us do have a reputation, you know,” Gawain pointed out.

Arthur coughed. “Oh indeed! Is there anyone in Camelot who can match your drunkenness, debauchery or mischief? I think not.” He smirked at the knight.

“Fine. Be that way. But I do bail your sorry arse out. Remember that too.” Gawain shivered. “Great. Now we’ve got a bloody freeze coming too?”

Arthur felt the increasing chill and dank feeling in the air. The brisk wind pushed through the humidity. He grabbed at his disguise bunching it closer about himself. “Now you’re doing it to me!”

“So I ain’t the only crazy one. Nice to hear it,” Gawain groused. He looked around in all directions. “What’s next?”

_Perhaps a festival? Gawain, if you wanted to be the court jester, all you have to do is ask…._

Gawain rolled his eyes. “And I had to say it? I’m going to be sick now.”

Morgana’s astral image phased through a tree. Her eyes twinkled. She chuckled clearly savoring their predicament. “Oh I have to say _bravo!_ Do let me guess. You both are trying to distract your enemies by humiliating yourselves? No? Maybe being without dear sweet Gwen has driven you mad, Arthur. If so, I believe the Nazarenes tonsure the men and put them in priest’s robes.”

Arthur flushed scarlet. Anger burned in his chest. “This is camouflage.”

“Oh it would have worked. I’d have never suspected such desperation especially from you both. So where’s Merlin? I assume he’s in his own gown? Perhaps he’s masquerading as a Prince to draw my men off? No matter. For some reason, I know not where we are. Still I think a special presentation is in order.” She waved her hand. Her eyes glinted. She commanded, _“Sealladh!”_

To her left, the gathering mist billowed up into a thick column. Then it pulled itself thin allowing an image to ripple into view. As it fully formed, the portal showed the captive knights unwillingly on their knees. Anger and Resistance narrowed their eyes and burned in their hearts. They glared straight ahead under ‘prompting’ from Helios and the Southrons’ guards.

Needless to say, Dismay dawned on their faces at their liege’s and brother knight’s appearances.

Gawain ground his teeth. _Merlin, you’re *really* going to buy me ten rounds now! So help me!_ He coughed back Embarrassment’s gag. “Yeah well dealing with your stench might make us take a habit. Get a man lately, Morgana? I hear touching you turns them into toads.” He grinned wickedly. 

Crimson streaked her face. “I *could* make you impotent, Gawain.”

“Looking at you does that well enough,” Gawain rebutted. “When was your last bath, Milady? You do know where the bath is. Right?” He batted his hand in front of his face. “Manure smells sweet next to you, Your Queasiness…” He bowed sarcastically. 

“Letting your Fool speak, Arthur? “ she criticized.

Arthur shrugged. “Sir Gawain only speaks the truth, Morgana. Perhaps you might give up your foolish crusade? Come back and be welcome!” Desperation glinted in his eyes. Although his head knew better, his heart still held hope.

Her eyes blazed with Indignation’s fire in response. “NEVER! I will tear down your bastard rule and return the true order to Camelot!” She exhaled an exasperated breath. “Sir Gawain? Since you know your way around a stable, perhaps Arthur and you might play the part?” Her eyes glinted yellow once more. She waved at them casting her next spell.

Arthur and Gawain grabbed their waists. Magic burned through them. Then they swayed on their feet. Their legs collapsed underneath them. For some reason, the cold didn’t seem so biting. The head coverings poked away from their faces.

“Do look again at yourselves before my pet finds you, Arthur. _Sister Gawain_ looks now closer to her part. She likes being an ass? Now she is really one,” Morgana proclaimed. Glee flavored her tone. Satisfaction lit up her face. “I will look forward to watching your end.” With that, she disappeared.

“What’d she do to us? Blimey!” Gawain complained.

Arthur put his hands to his face. Feeling the soft hair there, his eyes went wide. “She’s spelled us!”

“You don’t say? _Brilliant, Your Majesty_ ,” Gawain snarked.

“Perhaps you might think twice before mouthing off? That is if you can think first?” Arthur supposed. He tried to grab his sword handle but couldn’t clench his fist. A clomping sound rang to his ears. “Now what?” He stared at his hands….

…or rather hooves….

“So help me….” Gawain complained.

“Don’t say anything else!” Arthur barked at him. “We don’t want….”

On cue, a loud feline growl pierced the fog. 

“You were saying?” Gawain fired back. A slight ‘haw’ punctuated the end. He staggered back toward the campsite fighting the urge to rush on hands and knees.

_What is Morgana doing now? And why do I have this urge for carrots?_ Arthur hustled off. Perhaps he was impaired in his ability to fight. No matter what though, he’d do his best.


	9. In the Dark Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin has to deal with matters telepathic and of threatening cat demons.....

Chapter 9 [Two Hundred Yards Away]

Merlin paced about the temporary encampment. He’d already fed and brushed the horses. He’d smoothed Arthur’s bed roll. His mind pieced strategies together for dinner arrangements. His eyes darted this way and that through the deep shadows. He pulled his jacket around himself. The hairs stood on his neck.

Eyes watched them…or at least it felt that way…..

_Now you’re just being paranoid. This would be where Arthur lectures me about one of my funny feelings._ He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a large chunk of grain bread. He frowned recalling Arthur’s reaction to an offered meal in Ealdor. _We’ll all have to tighten our belts. Wish that I’d have had more time to grab food before we escaped. Several more days with a wounded man and no food. Marvelous!_

_Faith, Merlin, and patience. You do give up too easily,_ Kilgarrah chided.

_I’m being practical not giving up,_ Merlin rebutted. _We need to pick up the pace. Those soldiers will find us again._

_Indeed. Question is what are you willing to do about it, Young Warlock? You have quite the choice. Don’t use your magic and risk being discovered by those who pursue you. Do use your magic and risk being discovered by Arthur and the others. Yes. Duty is such a tricky mistress. Is she not?_ Kilgarrah proposed.

Merlin rolled his eyes. _Nothing’s ever easy. Is it?_

_As long as man keeps reaching over one another to achieve their individual ends, it cannot be so simple. The witch makes it complicated by fighting the Greater Good. What would you do if Arthur *did* discover your magic? Remember Sacrifice is just as harsh a master, Merlin. Gaius never told you that. Did he?_ Kilgarrah noted.

_We have to pick our moments._

_And what of the magical beings who perished during the Great Purge, Merlin? What of those of us such as Balinor or myself who rotted away imprisoned in one form or another? Not all of us are Malodius. He chose to serve and be the example,_ Kilgarrah disagreed.

Merlin narrowed his eyes. _Of course I don’t want them to die! Still I have to protect Arthur!_

_Nobody is saying otherwise. Remember some of us don’t have the luxuries you do. That’s all,_ Kilgarrah reminded him before going silent.

Merlin frowned. He rubbed his chin. _Luxuries? Not likely! Arthur can’t know what I am!_

_Like what, Merlin? Perhaps he might know you as more than a servant?_ Mithian interjected.

He sighed. _Princess, are you nearby?_ He glanced around.

_We are still finishing in the village. Merlin, you are more valuable than you know. Take pride in that!_ she countered.

He snorted. _Princess, if I do that, Arthur will have me burnt at the stake. You haven’t seen his reactions to magic._

_I doubt that. If he does that, he’s the idiot he claims you to be. Perhaps you have a greater duty to the Five Kingdoms than just being the chambermaid? If Foolheartiness prompted him to exile you, you’d only have to make your way to Gedref._

_And like you’d be there waiting for me? Princess, I’m not that important,_ Merlin argued.

She ground her teeth. _You are to all of us, Merlin. Stop saying that. Less doubt. More on getting Arthur and the others to your home village. By the way, Ealdor is where?_

_How did you….?_ he asked.

_I told her, Merlin. Besides she can follow you,_ Kilgarrah interjected.

_Of course you did._ Merlin sighed deeply. _Keep riding northeast. Once you cross into Mercia, Ealdor is ten leagues across the valley._

_Thank you, Merlin. You see? That wasn’t so hard. Now was it?_ Impishness crept into her message.

Merlin squirmed. _I think I’ll see if Gaius needs anything. Thank you for your interest, Princess. I appreciate it._

_You’re welcome, Merlin. It’s what friends do for each other,_ she assured him.

_Friends._ Merlin still tried to wrap his head around that concept. _If only the bigger order would accept that! Maybe Gwen and Arthur could be together. Maybe I’d have that seat at the council table. Who knows?_ He shrugged and walked over to where his mentor ground herbs in a wooden pestle. “How are our supplies?”

“Our supplies are fine. Meantime this hawthorn paste needs to be ready for Arthur’s wounds. Percival is gathering jasmine for the other tincture,” Gaius informed him. He twisted the pestle one last time. Then he set the bowl to the side and covered it with a wool rag. “Maybe you might get some bread?”

“Arthur needs that first. And….” Merlin started to argue.

A whooshing noise from above cut him off.

A low growl cut through the fog demanding both men’s attention. They forgot about the tasks at hand. Their hair seemed to stand on end.

Merlin exhaled a deep breath. His mind puzzled over the nature of this latest threat. Anxiety bubbled inside of him. “Gaius, get behind me.” He sucked in a composing breath. He pointed at the fog. _“Cunnart a nochdadh!”_ Authority glinted in his eyes.

“Merlin, what?” Gaius put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. 

“Gaius.” Merlin shook him off. He brandished the sword and stared into the mists. “I know you’re in there. Come out.”

The spell dispelled the mists’ obscuring cover in that area. Wind and Warmth shredded the attacker’s blind. The trees and grass came into view once more.

The Cath Palgau glared at the Warlock. Irritation burned in its eyes. A hiss whistled through its fangs. Its tail swayed back and forth. It screeched at them. It stalked about the periphery of the clear area. Its sight burned into its adversary’s.

The Mistress hadn’t told it of this one or his magic…..

Merlin gulped. He tensed. His mind flailed through Fear’s harsh rapids. He forced his breathing to remain calm. 

“Merlin, don’t provoke it. If we don’t threaten it, perhaps it will move on,” Gaius advised more out of hope than anything.

_Merlin, what is it? I can feel you,_ Mithian cut in through the link.

Merlin grimaced as the connection buzzed to life once again. He wanted to give his attention to the looming cat creature. Still she needed Consideration and Attentiveness as well. _We’ve got trouble here! There’s a cat demon and…._

The Cath Palgau swiped at him with a massive paw. Menace emanated from every note of its growl. Stealth muffled its steps through the grass as it licked at the paw in question.

Merlin recoiled. Somehow he’d managed to evade the paw for the most part. Still the jacket’s sleeve bore several deep tears. Blood flowed from wounds inflicted therein.

_Merlin, I felt that. Are you all right?_ she queried. Worry clouded her judgment.

_Still standing. Thanks!_ His eyes glowed at the hulking attacker. Indignation brewed up inside of himself. He pointed at the creature. _“Tiene!”_

From his hand, blood red fire spewed forth. Retaliation burned away its fur and seared its demonic flesh.

It yowled and jumped back both from Surprise and Pain. It rolled in the damp chilled grass to smother and numb itself. Then it climbed back to its feet. Its eyes narrowed further. It charged Merlin. Before the Warlock could react, its paw backhanded him against a tree.

The impact knocked the sword from his hand. His neck and head jerked against the massive oak’s bark. He slumped to the ground.

_MERLIN!_ she yelled.

Her cry stirred him from Daze’s depths just in time. He managed to avoid the Cath’s next attack. He rolled over on the ground. In that moment, he conceded that Need was more important than Risk and Secret. He called, _“Draigon!!!!”_

“Merlin, what?” Gaius wondered. He rushed to his protégé’s side. He flailed with the sword driving the creature back for the moment.

Still it looked hopeless…..


	10. Pursuit of Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percival discovers his companions' current straits. Then everyone discovers bigger issues.

Chapter 10 [Somewhere Else in the Mist and a Bit Earlier]

Percival squatted close to the grassy turf. His eyes struggled to pick out the lavender’s distinct purple blossom not to mention the foxglove’s white and magenta shadings. Irritation pushed his hand to bat at the cloying mist. Both Chill and Anxiety shook his giant frame. He paced off sections of the wood slowly in his quest.

Still the mind and heart remained troubled.

Morgana turns everything on its ear! He cut some of the desired flowers from the stems. He sniffed of them briefly. For a moment, the scents swept him back to Yesterday’s fields. Briefly he felt the barley and wheat swaying in Summer’s gentle breeze against his arms and side. As he did now, he harvested the crop for the Greater Good. Honest sweat beaded across his face. Pride and Accomplishment eased Toil’s aches. Back and forth his arm swung to harvest the produce.

And then he saw her walking toward him . She bore their lunch for Morning’s work.

Her…his Blancheflor….

He…her Percival…

_Shall we never get another minute’s rest?_ He frowned. _Stop! She would tell you to do your duty. Arthur needs these to heal. We need to press on. Some day you can go back to Rivermore. When Arthur is secure, you can press your claim. You can…._

The _Cath Palgau_ ’s shriek cut through the mist. It jarred him back to his present. Instinct guided his hand to his sword’s hilt. He yanked it from its scabbard. “Now what?” He turned in a complete circle. His eyes struggled to discern potential threats in the murky soup all around. He clearly heard someone stumbling through the brush toward himself. He brandished his sword.

Gawain rushed around the side of a rather large oak. Instinct coerced him toward his friends. Anxiety clenched his heart. Frustration clouded his mind. His hand still clanged against his sword’s hilt. His back and face itched. For some reason, he didn’t feel Chill’s bite as much. Then again, he struggled to remain upright between the robes and his wobbly legs. He glared back into the fog and shook his head. Then he nearly ran into Percival. “Who the….? Percy!”

Percival stiffened at the other knight’s appearance. Somehow he managed to stifle a laugh at Gawain’s appearance. He clearly saw the grey ears poking through the headdress and gray hair sprouting on the knight’s face. He noted the dark beard changing to the identical shading. “Gawain! What is this?”

“Just my bloody luck. Try getting His Princeness to have sense! Whatever! Then Morgana showed up. She cast a spell. I don’t get it!” Gawain explained.

“You’re turning into a donkey. Kind of suits you,” Percival jabbed.

“Yes it does. Pity his mouth ran before his common sense!” Arthur complained. He stumbled into view. He leaned against a tree to rest for a few heartbeats. “You aren’t the only one concerned with the situation, Gawain.”

Gawain curled his lip. His eyes narrowed. Like a maddened cat, he turned on the King. “Then bloody well act like it!” He nearly tripped over an exposed root.

“We do need a plan. Whatever’s out there, we have to deal with it. Like this, we can’t hold our swords much less use them,” Arthur pointed out. He held up the hoof-like hands for the others to view. “Bad enough Merlin has to deal with it.”

“He’ll be fine,” Gawain disagreed. Despite the situation’s seriousness, Arthur’s attitude really chafed at him. “Maybe you might try healing or doing your own laundry?”

“Yes well….” Arthur started.

“We do have our threat to deal with. That noise didn’t come from anything natural out there,” Percival cut in. “Merlin and Gaius will need our help. We deal with this mess. Then you two can argue. Right?” 

“Well put, Percival,” Arthur concurred. Despite his bravado, he did care about Merlin. Still he did have to maintain appearances for Appearance’s sake. “Gawain, come on!” With that he took a few more steps.

“Well put he says. Yak, yak, yak….” Gawain groused. He rolled his eyes. “Yeah we’ll help Merlin and Gaius. Then we’ll get this bloody manure out there.” He batted the fog away from his face. Loyalty pulled him back toward the campsite. “This crap is so thick. I….”

Another roar stilled the debate.

“BLOODY HELL!” Gawain forgot the formerly pressing debate. He forgot about the clumsiness. He forgot about Vanity’s previous hold over him. He only knew his friends needed him. His friends…his mates…. “There’s a demon out there! MOVE IT!”

“Now he wants to move! Honestly!” Arthur spat. Still Concern pressed down on him as well. Duty urged him on in pursuit of Gawain. “Percival!”

The trio rushed through the fog and misty soup. Caution was thrown to the wind. They only knew their friends’ need was dire. Anticipation and Experience reminded them of Morgana’s capabilities as Malice’s servant. They wound through the thickly laden trees. They splashed through marsh and stagnant soft mud. They would not be denied.

“Not much farther and…..” Gawain stopped stock still. His eyes bulged for the second time. His jaw slacked. “WHAT THE BLIMEY HELL?”

“That thing now?” Arthur demanded. His jaw set. He remembered well….Memoria reminded him of a previous meeting and time before Camelot’s walls. He recalled the bitter near-harvest of his father’s hate and a prisoner’s anger.

A prisoner on one side….

A monster on the other….

And them all in the middle…..

A true conundrum indeed…..


	11. A Stranger's Aid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mithian and the others learn of the latest threat to Camelot's refugees. Then they run into a mysterious woman who claims she can help them deal with that.....

Chapter 11 [Tyreborough]

Mithian set a bone dry bucket on the ground. Satisfaction coaxed a smile across her face. While everyone worked to raise the battered village back from the ashes, she readily pitched in. She’d helped Gwen make nails. She’d braced wooden supports as others tied them off. Then she’d brought water to the villagers who needed it.

The people deserved her service not her snobiness….such are the role of monarchs…..

_They should know Father and I care!_ She allowed herself a moment to relax and enjoy the moment. Yes Tension stiffened her arms, back and joints. Sweat dampened her brow. Dirt streaked her tunic. Still she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

All part of Toil’s honest day one might say….

She rubbed her forehead. She leaned up against a tree. Anxiety spun through her mind. It had been a dozen heartbeats since she’d felt Merlin strike something. Pain’s outburst stilled the connection. Panic shook her up. If she’d had her way, she’d jump on a horse and gallop across the leagues between herself and her Warlock. She’d sweep in and rescue the Camelot refugees from whatever Morgana had just unleashed on them. She bit her lip. _Merlin? Merlin, what’s going on? Merlin, are you all right?_

_It will be all right, Mithian. I am very close to him,_ Kilgarrah advised.

She stiffened. Much as Merlin had at her own telepathic call, she hadn’t adjusted to the Great Dragon’s voice. _Kilgarrah?_

_Indeed, Lady. Merlin has found quite a mess. I will do what I can._

_I appreciate it. We’re still helping these poor people here._ She surveyed the village. Her eyes took in the newly-rebuilt huts and buildings. She noticed Ywain and Galahad working with villagers to mark off a field for plowing. Gwen and Britomart set thatch on a roof top. Blancheflor administered first aid to a boy not ten yards to her right.

As much as she wanted to treasure the moment, she couldn’t. Granted Pride should have swelled on her friends’ accomplishments. Still Concern deflated that particular balloon. _Please protect him._

_The Great Dragon seems to care about Merlin as much as we all do, Princess, Malodius_ interjected. He strode over to her side. _I understand your frustration. I would do more as well._

_If only the distance weren’t so great. If only these people’s need wasn’t so great,_ she reminded him. She wondered how many other villages had suffered from the Southrons’ charred earth tactics. 

_They will survive. You have done what you can. In the meantime, we…. Malodius_ snarled. He felt a mystical static burning through the air. _The Witch here?_ He turned toward the White Dragon silently watching by the woods’ edge. _Aithusa?_

_Yes?_ Aithusa snapped to attention. _You felt it as well? What is it?_

_Potential danger, I fear. Kilgarrah, we seem to have a threat here as well. Malodius_ stalked toward another part of the clearing. His tail twitched. The hair on his back rose. _I feel you, Morgana Pendragon. Come out! You cannot hide from me._ His eyes moved back and forth across the clearing. His mind buzzed with the psychic biofeedback. 

Even if his eyes couldn’t make out the new presence, his mind felt it.

Mithian drew her dagger. She cursed herself for leaving her crossbow across the square. Still she’d be ready to face Adversity. She heard _Malodius'_ challenge. She could feel the magical energy as clearly as he did. “Where?”

_Stay behind me, Milady. Malodius_ stalked ever closer toward the woods. _Watch the woods, Aithusa._

_I am watching. I…._ Aithusa glanced down to see something emerging from the fog. _There! To your right!_

_I see. Thank you. Malodius_ moved deeper into the mists. He roared once again.

_I mean you no harm,_ a feminine voice reassured them all. Barely a heartbeat later, a slender cloaked figure emerged from the trees. A brown hood concealed her features. She leaned heavily on a staff. Her steps seemed slow and halting. “As you bade me, I have shown myself.” She pulled her hood down to reveal her face. Her dark hair cascaded down her back. “Greetings.”

“You are not Morgana,” Mithian realized.

“Most assuredly not, Princess Mithian.” The newcomer curtseyed. “I have come on the bidding of my high priestess. I am Ninane, a humble priestess of Avalon and to my goddess.”

Mithian arched an eyebrow. Suspicion shone in her gaze. She studied the other woman carefully. While nothing seemed threatening about her, the Princess knew better than to just blindly trust anyone. She glanced toward _Malodius. What do you think?_

“I hide nothing, Good Lady.” Ninane extended her hand palm up toward _Malodius_. “You can sense my intent, Great Lion. Can you not? What do you discern?”

_Malodius_ took great care. He sniffed the palm. He glanced into Ninane’s eyes. He could see no trace of Deceit’s pitch in her. He turned to Mithian. _She speaks the truth. At least it is as much as she believes she does._

_And it is my duty to assist Emrys and his allies. Is it not? I have been instructed by my order to return Morgana Pendragon to the hidden realm to stand trial. I intend to do so._ Ninane looked about the area. Her eyes went wide. “Speaking of Emrys, time is short. He is in danger.”

Mithian shook her head. She still felt nothing through her connection to Merlin. _What could it be? Kilgarrah?_

_I am almost to his side, Mithian. I will let nothing happen to him. That is my vow,_ Kilgarrah asserted.

Mithian exhaled sharply. “What danger? Sister Ninane, I must know. What is going on?”

Ninane shook her head. “I do not know. Soldiers comb the woods looking for Emrys, Arthur and their companions. A demon swoops down on them from above. Unless help arrives soon, they will not survive.” She pointed to the air between them. Her eyes glowed.

In that spot, the mists congealed. They formed a pillar and then a doorway.

“What is that?” Mithian asked.

“It is a doorway to Emrys’ location. Step through and be at his side,” Ninane noted. She motioned to the portal. “As I said, time is short.”

_Can we trust her?_ Aithusa pondered. She wanted no part of the elder dragon or the Dragon Lord for that matter.

_I have seen such things. I can feel your good intent, Priestess. Malodius_ charged into the portal disappearing into the cloying mists.

“Of all the rash!” Mithian complained. She turned to Aithusa. “Go after him! Make sure he’s all right please!”

_Of course!_ Aithusa looked to Ninane. Then she edged through the gateway as well.

Ninane nodded. “They will assist your allies. Still your time here is over. While noble your intent is, you are needed more with him.”

Mithian sheathed her dagger. “Merlin would want me to help these people before himself.”

“The high priestess so informed me, Princess. Please gather your companions. My only desire is to speed you all toward a meeting with Camelot’s remaining hope. I can assure you of that. Time is indeed short,” Ninane reiterated.

Distrust and Question knotted in Mithian’s gut. She didn’t know whether Ninane spoke the truth or was Morgana’s pawn. _And who is this High Priestess? What will she want? Could she want Merlin too?_ She bit her lip. She forced Jealousy’s presence to the back recesses of her mind. She turned and ran toward the camp.

If Merlin and the others were in danger, you’d bet that she and the others wouldn’t stand for that…..


	12. Conflict and Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events come to a head in the woods it seems....

Chapter 12 [Camelot Campsite—Somewhere Between Camelot and Mercian Border]

Gaius watched the _Cath_ carefully. In addition to the sword in his right hand, he’d grabbed a torch as well. He waved the latter menacingly at the predatory creature. While he didn’t want to hurt it, he understood well Morgana’s intent. He glanced briefly back at the unconscious Merlin and frowned. For whatever it was worth, he would not let it have the Warlock.

It stalked several feet away. Menace sparked in its eyes. Anticipation dripped from its fangs. A vicious hiss whistled through its teeth. It sprang back at each pass of the torch. Still it understood Patience. It could see the flames weakening. It knew that time was on its side.

He feinted with the torch. His mind began to consider ways to get Merlin away from this threat. _Where the Devil have Gawain and Percival gotten off to? We need their help now!_ He noted the diminishing flames from the protective torch. His ears cringed from the _Cath’s_ growls. Its breath threatened to clog his nose. His stomach lurched.

It edged ever closer to the elderly physician. Loyalty demanded that it follow orders. Purpose dictated that it finish off the duo. It tensed preparing to pounce….

….only to be driven back by a deluge of fire from above….

It recoiled once again. It shook the now-twice burned paw. Through the blazing protective fire, it could see Gaius stare in shock at the blinding murk overhead. It hissed.

Kilgarrah dove through the protective blind and into sight. He landed just in front of the blazing protective flames. His eyes narrowed. _A Cath Palgau? It has been millennia since I’ve seen one such as you. These humans are under my watch, Creature. Go now._

The _Cath_ hissed and charged the Great Dragon angrily. It bore its claws hoping to rake the other’s scales with bloody efficiency. It determined not to fail its mistress.

Kilgarrah gnashed his fangs. He glanced briefly back at Gaius’ efforts to minister Merlin’s wounds. But he only did so for a heartbeat. He swung his tail clubbing the demonic creature across the snout. He exhaled still more fire. _LEAVE! The Dragon Lord is under my protection._

“What is this?” Gaius demanded.

_The Witch wrecks her havoc. And…._ Kilgarrah detected magical energies building in the foggy soup. _It seems she is not done with her mischief._

The _Cath_ glanced around as well. It tensed. It screeched in rage not knowing who else would impede its purpose. It flapped its wings and rose into the air looking to get a better angle for attack….

….only to be struck by another fiery burst from the mist….

In concert, a monstrous roar echoed through the mist shrouded woods. 

The _Cath_ crashed to the damp ground. Agony and indignation prompted yet another defiant screech from its lungs.

_You cannot handle this one, Dragon? Malodius_ stepped into view. He glanced into the mist overhead. _Keep your eyes open and watch yourself. This demon can kill you._

_I can hold my own!_ Aithusa snapped. Impetuousness pushed her into the heart of the fray. 

_Listen to him, Young One,_ Kilgarrah urged. Keep watch on Merlin. _Perhaps you might heal him? That would be greatly appreciated._

_Now you’re telling me what to do?_ Aithusa rolled her eyes. _Maybe you might have looked after me instead of letting me wander all of that time? You and our lord down there?_

_Argue later, Malodius_ cut in. _Do as he says. We could use our brother’s talents ere the other knights return._

_Hrumph!_ Aithusa flew over the fiery circle and alighted on the grass next to Merlin. She gentled her glance toward the elderly physician.

“Another dragon? I….” Wonder prompted the Eyebrow to arch to its widest extent possible. “You’re the one from the egg! Did Merlin hatch you?”

Aithusa coughed. _Hatch me? No. I hatched myself. He called me forth into the world. Then he abandoned me!_ She considered the prone Warlock. She could feel his weakening aura. _He will die without further aid._ She turned toward the others. _Malodius, I need time._ Not needing any other prompting, she breathed magical vibrations onto Merlin.

_And you shall have it, Young One._ The lion pounced onto the demon’s back pinning its wings under his chest. He dug his teeth into the demon’s neck and tugged savagely.

The _Cath_ yowled. It went limp and collapsed to the ground.

_Malodius_ spat out the blood on the prone creature’s hide. He wiped his paws on the damp grass underfoot. _Grotesque and so unnecessary._ Sympathy prompted a long look at the _Cath’s_ cold body. _The Witch perverted this one._

_It is a demon. It only has malice in its heart, Malodius. Waste no more time on that one,_ Kilgarrah argued. He turned toward the other activity within the circle. 

“You know of them?” Gaius asked not understanding Aithusa’s role or _Malodius’_ presence there.

_We are here to protect Merlin, Malodius_ explained. By now, the damp grass had all but extinguished the flames. He strode toward where the others watched over the prone Merlin. 

Aithusa and Kilgarrah breathed healing magic onto their brother. Their effort denied Death her prize pushing her scythe away for another day at least.

Merlin slowly opened his eyes. “What? I….” He tensed. Pain shot through his arms and back. He grimaced.

“Merlin, you’re awake!” Gaius embraced the younger man. Relief eased Tension’s hold over him. 

“Gaius, get back. The demon’s still out there. We….” Merlin noted the Cath’s corpse lying on the ground nearby. “ _Malodius?_ Aithusa?”

_So you do remember me. At least you’re not *completely* hopeless._ Aithusa sniffed.

_I couldn’t bring you back to Camelot, Merlin pointed out. It’s not like I had a safe place for you to grow. I couldn’t leave you in the egg either. I didn’t know what to do!_ He rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease the residual aches therein. He clearly felt Pain and Resentment rising from the White Dragon much like the heat from a forge. 

_You could have balanced your responsibilities, Merlin, Malodius_ suggested. He inspected the revived Warlock with great care. _Princess?_

_Malodius, how is he?_ Mithian called back through their link. 

_All is well. Merlin has revived. Advise the priestess that we arrived in time to assist Kilgarrah. I dispatched the cat demon while the dragons healed him. I have yet to see Arthur and the knights. For now, the day is ours, Malodius_ reported.

Mithian breathed a heavy sigh. It seemed that befriending Aithusa had proven the right thing to do after all. _Thank you. I will let Priestess Ninane know. What of the Lady Morgana? Has she appeared?_

_Not here although I’m sure she will know of her creature’s demise. How goes your progress in the village, my Lady? Malodius_ pointed out.

_We are about to set out. The priestess will guide us to Ealdor. Please be safe,_ Mithian urged.

_And I would ask the same of you, Princess. I shall watch, Malodius_ concluded. He sniffed the air.

Kilgarrah turned toward the trees. _Come out. I can sense you three. Arthur, as changed as you are, I know it’s you._

Arthur led the two knights out into the clearing. By now his face was completely covered with dark hair. Twin bumps stuck up on top of the nun’s headdress. “I hear you in my mind but not in my ears?” His hoof-like hand clanged against the hilt. “What devilry is this?

Merlin cleared his throat. Somehow he managed a cough to try and hide the laugh brewing in his chest. “Looks like you two definitely found something.”

“Merlin,” Gaius lectured. Disapproval arched the Eyebrow.

“Maybe he might look first?” Merlin pulled himself to his feet. He breathed several efforted breaths. “Gawain, what have you done?”

“Me? Arthur and I ran into Morgana and her manure out there! She did something to us. Okay? And you’re sittin’ pretty with two dragons and Mith’s Blood Lion?” Gawain supposed.

“Not so much,” Percival corrected. He motioned to the dead _Cath_ on the ground. “Why didn’t you call?”

_Pity your ears aren’t sharper, Good Knight,_ Kilgarrah chided. His eyes narrowed. _Yes you are hearing me in your mind. Perhaps you might pay closer attention to others._

“My father dealt with you. I should have….” Arthur started.

“Arthur, I wouldn’t go there,” Merlin interceded.

Arthur stiffened. His eyes set firmly. “Merlin, shut up. I know what I’m talking about. This creature is up to something. The last time he nearly destroyed Camelot.”

Kilgarrah coughed. Plumes of smoke escaped from his snout. _Yes. I would have. And what of Uther’s slaughter of my fellow dragons and magical beings, Young Pendragon? What of keeping me imprisoned for twenty of your years? Seems Camelot deserved it. Be grateful that I was turned away. You owe much to the Dragon Lord._

“Dragon Lord?” Arthur rolled his eyes. “None survived my father’s purge. You didn’t have the stomach for destruction.”

_And yet it seems Morgana does. The same hatred burns in her, Arthur. It is responsible for your condition. Even if your boy servant cannot say as much, I’d say it suits you well,_ Kilgarrah snarked.

Merlin looked at Kilgarrah. “Can’t we all just put this behind us? Morgana and the Southrons are hunting for us. We need to get over the border.” He stepped forward gingerly.

“Merlin, you need rest! We can take our chances!” Gaius disagreed.

“Maybe we do need to get across the border. You aren’t rushing anywhere,” Gawain pointed out. Then he saw Ninane step from the mist. “Now who? You’re like Morgana!”

“Speak quickly, Witch!” Percival held his blade at the ready.

Ninane shook her head. “Put your sword away, Sir Knight. I am not your foe on this day. I am here to speed you on your way to Ealdor.” She waved her hand. Her eyes glowed. _“Gu Ealdor còmhla riutha!”_

Before any of the Camelot contingent could protest, the mists engulfed them sweeping them from the scene.

_Humbling for the Young King and appropriate. Well done, Milady,_ Kilgarrah complimented. 

_We all have our duty to the goddess, Dragon,_ Ninane pointed out. She pointed at the mists opening another passage through them. _I cannot leave this open for long without Morgana finding out. Pass through quickly._

_Thank you, Sister, Malodius_ expressed before striding through.

_Thanks for being nice to us. At least someone can be,_ Aithusa declared before bounding off into the mists.

Kilgarrah sighed. _You have a point. Still we should all take care._ He vanished into the misty backdrop.

Ninane closed the portal. She considered the scene including the dead cat demon. “And so it shall be. Let them discern the solution to the greater puzzle.” She glanced toward Camelot. “Let them all do so.” She waved her hands and disappeared.

And in such ways, battles were cut short and others were deferred…..


	13. Gauntlets Dropped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helios and Morgana deal with challenges

Chapter 13 [First Light]  
[Camelot]

Dawn streaked the skies over the capital. The townspeople muddled through their affairs. Bartering continued albeit at a slower pace than normal. None of the castle servants pumped well water into their oak buckets. Southron soldiers paced atop the ramparts and through the square. Their eyes spied everything around them.

Tension threatened to choke everyone. And that wasn’t counting what was going on in the citadel….

 

****

 

Helios walked briskly down the main passage from the armory. He and his choice lieutenant, Petersley, had just inspected the weapons still awaiting use there. His eyes drank in the mother lode of swords, chain mail and bows there. Within a turn of the hourglass, he’d be in the courtyard running his men through drills and practice. After that, he and Morgana would be meeting with the soldiers who’d pursued Arthur and the others through the woods.

_Arthur…._

He frowned. He swiped away some beaded sweat from his shaved forehead. Impatience and Consternation ate at his gut. He cared little for allowing the mice to skitter about. He didn’t relish the chase as much as his partner in this affair did. He wanted to capture the boy king and put an end to him once and for all. Whether that end came in battle or on the block outside was of little consequence to him. As long as he saw it done. He turned the corner into the cell block.

Leon glared at him through the bars. Hunger growled in his stomach. Torture had left his back scarred and burning from Morgana’s entertainment outside. Determination and Loyalty lit his pale face. His eyes seared into the interloper’s. Still he’d say nothing. He wasn’t about to give Helios any satisfaction.

Elyan rattled the chain across the passage. “Enjoy your time there! Arthur’s still out there!”

Helios stopped. He shook his head. “Sir Elyan, is it? Ah yes. Loyal knight and brother to the serving wench. Pity. Guinevere would have made a worthy conquest.”

Elyan sprang from the bench. He rushed toward the bars. Still the manacle around his leg arrested his progress before he reached the bars. “I’d take that out of your hide! My sister is no mere whore! She played you for information and a meal. Then she ran back here. She’s loyal to Arthur and no other!”

Helios shrugged. “Then I’ll take her in front of him. After that they can die together for all I care.” He met Elyan’s glare with his own. “I’d tell you to prepare for the entertainment, Boy. It will be the last thing you see ere you hang.”

“Talk is but air,” Leon interjected.

Helios sniggered. He wheeled around on his heel. “And yet you’re in the cell and I’m out here. How is that ‘but air’, Leon? Do tell me.”

Leon shook his head. “You’re so sure, aren’t you? Yes you have the air in a sack. You’re holding it shut. Still you can’t tie it shut. Can you? Arthur, Percival and Gawain escaped. Morgana’s had the throne before. She had an invincible army then as I’m sure your men are now. Still the air is leaking through your fingers. Soon you will have nothing.”

“Bold words. We have the citadel. I would hang the lot of you right now. I care little for the rabble and their loyalty. My men would run their estates and villages well enough. We have only to corner Arthur and the others. What are his options? He can’t come here. Mercia is no friend of Camelot. That is if they could reach the border. We will intercept them again,” Helios asserted. “The odds, it seems, are in our favor not yours.”

“We have friends too,” Leon countered.

“Morgana told me about Nemeth. We will deal with them soon enough.” Helios coughed. “It’s a pity. Morgana hopes that you all will swear allegiance to us. I’m not holding my breath.”

“At least you get that. We’re Arthur’s men. I’d rather die than follow her or you,” Leon told him.

“Don’t worry. You’ll soon get your wish. That I promise you.” Helios marched out of the prison block and toward the stairs.

Baiting the mice irritated him. Time to check on how the main game was progressing…..

 

****

 

[Throne Room]

Morgana brooded on the throne. Her fingers tapped Frustration’s Morse code across the arm rest’s varnished surface. She trembled and stewed. She had the throne. The knights were trapped in the dungeon. The transformation spell worked on Arthur and Gawain somewhere in the woods.

Somewhere in the woods….

Somewhere out there and not cowering before her….

She’d had the fugitives trapped on the previous evening. She’d cast spells to slow their way. She’d sent the Cath to exterminate all but her not-so-dear brother. It seemed like a _fait accompli._

It should have been…if not for magical interference…

Her spells counteracted….

The _Cath_ lay scorched and burned. Its sides bore deep gouge marks. Its head looked blankly in Death’s expression at her….

She frowned. She clenched her fists. “EMRYS!!!!” Her eyes glowed a florescent canary shade. Rage rose inside of her like an angry phoenix. “CURSE HIM!!” Tears burned her eyes. 

Once more the Calilleach’s advisory echoed in her ears. _“Beware the one called Emrys. He will walk in your shadow. He will be your doom.”_

“He will never stop hounding me. So help me…..” She shuddered. Her fingers stroked the soft fur under them. “Even you couldn’t stop him.” She curled her lip. She knew Helios’ scouts were due back within the hourglass’ next turn. Still she didn’t need the report. She already knew the group had disappeared again within the cloying mists. She shivered imagining the moors’ chill from the previous night once again.

A wisp of mist crossed her eyes and dampened a swath of her hair.

_Years have passed. Hate still blazes brightly within you, Morgana Pendragon,_ a strange female voice observed telepathically.

Morgana stiffened. Her eyes narrowed. Like a maddened cobra, she sprang up and surveyed the room. Between her and the throne, she saw a hooded figure watching her in turn. She could see the latter’s emerald robes flowing under the grey cloak and hood. “A woman clad in a priestess’ robes and daring to speak thus? I am the last high priestess of the goddess. You will bow to me!”

_How mistaken you are on that and on so many things. Your need for vengeance scars those around yourself. As for your claims, know that I am the High Priestess of Avalon by the triple goddess’ own choice. She drew back her hood allowing her raven black hair to flow down her back._ Coal black eyes flared into Morgana’s. “I am Freya.”

Morgana’s eyes narrowed. Her mind spun while trying to recall anyone of magical potential with that name. “Morgause and I would’ve heard if you are truly who you say you are.”

“The goddess brought me back, Morgana. Like you, I have reason to hate Camelot. I choose to look ahead to the future. Duty is a kinder mistress than Hate.” Freya pointed toward the window. “Arthur and his knights struck me down out there years ago.” She exhaled a pained breath. “Still one other redeemed me. Even if I can’t have him, I will look out for him.”

Morgana stared at the other priestess. Memoria reminded her of that instance…of the accursed Druid girl who rode into the city in a bounty hunter’s cart. She dimly recalled Arthur’s little lap dog taking a dress and stealing out of the kitchen with food for somewhere in the lower town. She could hear the creature’s screeching as it confronted the knights on the cobbles outside. Afterwards she could still see Merlin simpering and carrying on about his dead puppy love.

The dead cursed girl…now revived High Priestess….this Freya….

“You still care for the little servant boy. Don’t you?” Morgana grinned. “Oh this is too amusing! You do know what a back stabbing little piece of work Merlin is, don’t you?”

“I know exactly what he is, Morgana. Still what I say is on the goddess’ behalf and not mine. Even now, one of our sisters assists Merlin and the others to where they need to be next. You can look but you will not find them. Our great mother warns for you to stop this madness. Please forgive. It is time for a new age. We should all move on together,” Freya told her.

“TRAITOR!” Morgana yelled. Her eyes glowed. _“Dealanaich!”_ She pointed her finger toward the dais.

From her hand, a potent electrical burst shot across the space toward the other woman.

Freya deflected it almost too easily. “So be it. You have been advised. Let that be your warning. How your fate proceeds is up to you now. Your reckoning will come.” With that she waved her hand and disappeared into the mists. Give up willingly, Sister, or be made to do so.

“ARGH! That little tramp!” Morgana’s eyes flashed yellow. Her breath hissed through clenched teeth. She looked toward the sky. “EVEN YOU ARE AGAINST ME? I AM TRYING TO BRING BACK YOUR WORSHIP! YOUR ORDER! WHY???”

At that moment, Helios rushed into the chamber. He batted his hand in front of his nose to deal with the ozone odor. “Lady Morgana, what happened?”

She snorted. “Where do I begin?” Her lip curled ever more on itself. “Our plans come apart in the woods as we speak. We need urgency!”

“And you shall have it. The scouts will tell us….” he started.

“I don’t need the scouts to tell me! I ALREADY KNOW!” she snapped. She pointed at the dead Cath. “Emrys was there! The Cath Palgau should have killed our fugitives. Instead Emrys summoned his allies to destroy my creature. Another priestess guides them to somewhere else. Worse there is another High Priestess.” She sniggered. “A cursed Druid girl returns from the dead. Now she has delusions of grandeur! THAT’S MY ROLE JUST LIKE THIS IS MY THRONE!”

“Then take it back. After we eliminate Arthur, we will find this woman and deal with her,” he directed. He struggled to maintain his patience. “Meantime perhaps we can bury the demon properly? Then we will meet with the scouts. Any information is better than none.”

She conceded a nod. Then she stalked from the chamber.

_She’s a handful. May we keep her focused._ He glanced out the window. For some reason, Leon’s words rang in his ears. _Arthur will be found. Rest assured of that!_ With that he marched off in her wake…..


	14. Brooding Outside of Ealdor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As both the Nemeth and Camelot parties head toward Ealdor, Mithian and Merlin both deal with inner issues....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Thanks for reading this installment. Next one's coming soon!

Conclusion   
[A/N: Happy Thanksgiving!]

_Sol_ ascended through the heavens casting a spectrum of shades and brilliant colors over the valley. Birds called to each other in a soothing symphony. A bit of warmth softened the chill’s edge. The mists, hovering thickly over the landscape and obscuring foliage and being alike, burned away. A few small animals rustled in the brush looking for the day’s first meal.

And for those rushing to the east, the valley provided an oasis of sorts…..

 

****

 

[Rise Across the Valley from Ealdor]

Mithian gazed down onto the mist enshrouded expanse beneath herself. The morning’s warmth lessened the crimson on her cheeks. The breeze rustled her hair. She noted the streaks of color overhead. She inhaled deeply of the clean air. 

Anxiety ate away like a cancer inside of her however….

She bit her lip. Despite Ninane’s repeated assurances, Unease tormented her. She tapped her fingers against her sides. She realized that her attention should have been focused on Arthur’s safety first as reigning monarch and her friend. She’d even spoken to Gwen to that effect.

Still words couldn’t measure up to reality or so it seemed….

_I know Merlin’s alive and down there. Frankly that should keep me going. But I can’t help worrying! What happened to him? Is Malodius all right?_ She glanced back at Britomart who rolled up their bedding. _I know she’s thinking about Sir Gawain._ She frowned and peered again into the valley’s still covered area.

“Have faith, Princess Mithian. All will be well,” Ywain assured her.

She nearly jumped. “Oh! Sir Ywain! I didn’t see you.”

He bowed to her. “Forgive me for startling you, Milady. You were deep in thought.”

“I am anxious about King Arthur and our friends.” Mithian shrugged. She reapplied the Mask of State before continuing, “Do we know what’s down in that valley?”

Gawain nodded. “As the Priestess Ninane indicated, the village of Ealdor lies at the valley’s far end. Guinevere says it is a quiet place. Did you know King Arthur’s servant, Merlin, is from there?”

“Really? That’s interesting.” She raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps I might ask him about the hunting then?”

“Perhaps, Princess.” Despite her attempts to appear otherwise, he could clearly see Concern’s burden wearing on her face. “I’m sure Merlin would be more than willing to offer some insight in that regard. He is always insightful.” He smiled. “I am certain he and the others are safe.”

“I am sure. Priestess Ninane said as much. Still, it is my job to concern myself over our friends’ state.” She exhaled trying to relax her jittery nerves. “We will know soon enough.” She noted _Sol_ climbing further above the eastern horizon. “How go the packing efforts?”

“We will be ready to depart soon. You might get yourself something to eat. It will be a long morning’s ride across the valley toward the hamlet. Fortunately Guinevere knows the way,” he reported. 

“That is fortunate indeed, Sir Ywain. Thank you for your observation on behalf of my well-being. I appreciate it,” she expressed. “Follow me if you would, Good Knight?” She walked back toward the others.

He glanced toward the west. He could almost anticipate Morgana and the Southrons’ frustration. Despite the scene’s idyllic feel, he knew that the group stood at Trouble’s crossroads. Mercian and Essetirian politics held dominance over the stretch on which they stood. Camelot’s border only lay a few leagues behind. Beasts of all kinds could stomp forth from the cloying fog. 

“Sir Ywain?” Mithian broke in. She looked him over. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Princess Mithian. Begging your pardon, my mind wanders,” Ywain apologized. He collected himself and headed back toward the camp.

_Now what?_ Mithian shook her head. We’re all letting our fears get to us. She discovered that the others had packed everything up and waited for her. “Are we set then?”

“Perfectly, Princess,” Galahad assured her. “We await your command.”

“Would you like something, my Lady, before we leave?” Britomart inquired.

“I can wait until we reach Ealdor,” Mithian declined. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Britomart, as always. Based on what we’ve seen, I would feel better when we reach the village.” She bit her lip. I won’t let anything happen to your friends and neighbors, Merlin. “Guinevere, would you care to lead our progress since you know the way?”

Gwen snapped out of her own introspection. Surprise over the latter’s respect for her experience still hadn’t totally abated. She looked to Blancheflor who nodded in turn. “Right this way then, Everyone. Thank you, Princess Mithian.” She nodded to Mithian before adding a smile. Then she spurred her horse and started down the trail toward the valley below.

_I hope she realizes that I am her friend. She definitely is worthy!_ Mithian urged her own steed onward and toward the mist-laden path.

 

****

 

[Wooded Patch Not Far From Ealdor’s Edge]

Merlin leaned up against a gnarled tree. Familiarity offered a soothing balm of sorts to him. Questions flooded his mind. Worry prodded at him over Arthur’s and Gawain’s shared malady. Doubt pressed over whether they should be there. (After all, why invite Chaos and Destruction to crash Bliss’ balance?) He looked over toward Gaius who tended to the others. _Can I handle this?_

_Handle what, Balinor’s Son? Malodius_ raised his head. His eyes narrowed. _Doubt is a parasite, Young One. Do not indulge it overly much._

_Caution is valuable too._ Merlin bit his lip. _Morgana’s looking for us. How can everyone think she’ll stop just because we’re in Essetir? She won’t care about the border. Neither will those goons. I have to think of the right spell to get Arthur and Gawain back to normal. Gaius will need assistance. And…._

_Stop, Merlin, Malodius_ interrupted. _You don’t need to carry the entire world on your shoulders. Have you considered that the spells might not be yours to cast? King Arthur and Sir Gawain’s situation, I sense, is a different type of magic. Do not shut the world out. We, your allies, are here for you._

_I can’t let you all get hurt though,_ Merlin disagreed.

_Respect for our choices is something you need to deal with. I chose to help you. I trust that Ywain and Galahad can protect Princess Mithian, Lady Blancheflor and Guinevere. I believe that Britomart’s sword is more than capable. Believe in that. Malodius_ growled. _You’re shutting Princess Mithian out._

_I’m not. I…I…_ Merlin sighed. _I just don’t want her exposing herself. She’s done enough for me already. I’m just a servant._

_You’re Emrys of the Druids, Son of Balinor and Last of the Dragon Lords. Certainly you’ve done enough to merit consideration otherwise. You’re a servant because you choose to be. There are other ways to bring about the prophecy. Princess Mithian is stronger than you think. She’s also wiser than most would give credit for. Have faith. You are of royal blood. Take pride in that, Malodius_ admonished.

_Try getting that through his head_ , Kilgarrah interjected tersely. 

_I want to work with everyone! I just…. I…._ Merlin bowed his head. Even as he engaged in the telepathic exchange, he struggled to cope with this new reality. Inferiority nagged at him. _How can she even *think* about me?_

_How did you risk so much for your friends? Why do you care, Merlin? For all of your other faults, Devotion and Caring radiate from you. Learn more. Engage in your strengths though. Once again, have faith. Princess Mithian knows your worth. Our friends also support you. You are not alone, Malodius_ pointed out.

Merlin nodded. He scratched his chin. _Right now, I just want to see my mother._ Anxiety flared within him. _Do I introduce Princess Mithian as Princess or a friend? How will she deal with what’s going on? She’ll remember Morgana as my friend not some vindictive witch and…._

“MERLIN!!!!”

Merlin sighed. “So much for space.” He straightened himself slowly. Then he hustled toward where Arthur fumed. “Sire?”

“It took you long enough,” Arthur complained. He arched an impatient eyebrow. “You’re daydreaming over there. Meantime we should be in your village.”

“We all have a great deal to consider,” Gaius interceded.

“Consider? Perhaps you might consider this?” Arthur raised the hooves which had been his hands. “Morgana’s…made me like this. I have to crawl around on all fours at times now. Worse I’m still…HAW…in this dress.”

“Guess you’ll stop telling me to act like a girl now?” Merlin supposed with a cheeky air. He fought to maintain a poker face lest he get put in the stocks upon their return to Camelot.

Gaius arched the Eyebrow at the Warlock. “Perhaps you might help me to think of something to deal with the situation.”

“Yes, Merlin. Hee HAW!” Arthur struggled to compose more than short phrases at this point. “Quit being an idiot!” He forced himself to stand erect. He wobbled toward his horse.

Gaius shook his head. “Morgana’s spell is very potent. If we don’t get them help soon, Arthur and Gawain will completely change. It will be irreversible.”

Merlin stifled a wisecrack. Granted Arthur could act like an ass at times. Still he didn’t wish his liege or the knight any harm. On the contrary, he’d do anything to help them. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should start by getting into Ealdor?”

“We might wish to be cautious.” Gaius held a couple of hooded robes up. “Arthur and Gawain will want to disguise themselves.”

Tension stabbed at Merlin’s temples over that suggestion. His mind brewed up a troublesome stew. He could well imagine how his friends and neighbors would react to Arthur and Gawain’s situation. He wondered how Arthur would handle being around Gwen. He worried how Mithian and the Nemeth contingent would handle Ealdor’s simplicity. Fear over their enemies’ wrath toward the small village worried him as well. “Yeah that would be good.” He took the robes.

“One step at a time, Merlin. Let’s get there. After that, we’ll see where we are,” Gaius advised.

Merlin shrugged and headed toward the others.

Gaius looked toward Camelot and then Mercia. Despite having numbers and friends nearby, he knew that Bliss’ peace was a fragile oasis. He anticipated that Morgana would find them soon enough. He wondered if they could trust Ninane and her High Priestess.

So many questions. So little security…..

For that, Merlin would look to home. What he would find there—both from within and without—would be telling…..

 

THE END (for now)


End file.
